Tekken: Kings and Queens
by Aegis Khaos
Summary: One year after the mutual destruction of the Mishima Zaibatsu and G-Corporation, Jin Kazama found himself in the company of his hated father, Kazuya Mishima, with an offer he can't refuse. A new tournament, a new host... and a mysterious woman...
1. Prelude

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Prelude_

Sleep.

Oh how Jin Kazama had longed for the stillness of absolute slumber.

Peace.

Tranquility.

Oblivion.

With all the atrocities he had committed, if this was supposed to be hell, then divinity had an unusual sense of humor. If one had to make a list of atrocities the once great King of Iron Fist had committed, the list of sins would be quite long. Amongst them, deception, extortion, murder, terrorism, war, strife, and the list would grow longer by the minute. Years before, he gave the world a single enemy to fight, a single enemy to hate, and he gladly bore the weight on his broad shoulders.

Yes, to save the world… any other mad dictator would probably justify his acts as such. Jin, however, chose to be honest. Though he bore the marks of a supposed savior and he, indeed, saved the world from the clutches of evil on more than one occasion, the blood he spilled was far too great a crime to be ignored.

Again, divinity had an unusual sense of humor.

Either that or someone in the heavens made a grievous mistake. _A very grievous mistake_.

Jin allowed a chuckle to escape his lips. After all, if the heavens indeed made a mistake, sooner or later, fate will correct itself and reclaim its prize. For now, the only thing he could do was sleep. Rest, while fate turns a blind eye away –

"Get up."

…away from him as he continued his –

"Get up!"

…slumber… peace… a moment of…

_SMACK!_

"Are you deaf? I said get up!"

…silence –

_SMACK!_

…noise… pain… torment…

"Open your eyes, boy!"

_SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! _

…hands …fists…

_SMACK!_

"I did not risk life and limb to retrieve your carcass just so that you may sleep the rest of the day! Get up!"

…worse than hell…

_SMACK! SMACK!_

"Get up!"

_SMACK! SMACK!_

…anger… rising!

"Get up!"

_SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

Jin groaned as he meekly fought off the hands hitting his face. It had finally come to his attention that he was neither in heaven nor hell. In fact, he was very much alive (much to his chagrin). The stings on his cheeks were the first reminder that he is still alive. The flush of crimson was the second.

"Awake now? Good. Open your eyes, boy!"

The noise would be the third. A very familiar one at that.

"Open your damned eyes before I peel the lids off of them!"

With a grunt, Jin groggily rubbed the sweat off his brow and grudgingly obeyed the voice. Slowly but surely, he peeled back one eyelid and squinted as the cones from the retinas screamed from the sudden burst of light. Gritting his teeth, Jin gave himself a (brief) moment to adjust from the sensation, then, with his right hand providing shade, gradually opened his eyes all the way. When the haze settled, what he saw was perhaps worse than any hell or demon he had ever dreamed imaginable.

"Good morning."

* * *

"How much longer must we wait?" Kyuuto Ishida asked impatiently, glaring at the scientist across from his desk.

"For as long as necessary, Mr. Ishida," Kalina Romov answered in a straight monotone, undeterred by the question. For the scientist, this has become a routine part of the job, walking into Kyuuto's office and putting up with his incessant complaints on the project's schedule.

Kyuuto looked at the woman incredulously. The middle aged business man was used to doing things on schedule. In fact, Kyuuto loved schedules; schedules means order, order means no surprises, and no surprises means profit. Profit for him, of course, means filthy rich and a bigger office.

That was how he managed to move up the ladder in Soleil Inc. and land this particular assignment, which involved a major breakthrough in genetics started by the once great Mishima Zaibatsu and now championed by Soleil. Should this project be successful, it would leave ripples in the science community and change the world forever as he would know it. What that translates to in business terms would be another promotion, which meant more profit, and of course filthy rich and an even bigger office.

The only thing keeping him from being filthy rich would be this emotionless, brown haired, brown eyed foreign scientist standing before him. Unfortunately for him, the slender woman happens to be a very big stumbling block to his endeavors. Stumbling blocks which could lead to surprises, and surprises means throwing Kyuuto's well planned schedule in jeopardy. Kyuuto Ishido is not one for surprises. He looked at the woman with rage in his eyes.

"You say that every time we meet, yet time is against us!" he snapped. "The master is practically demanding when she will be ready!"

Unmoved, Kalina adjusted the collar of her lab coat and looked the businessman straight in the eye.

"The master will just have to be patient," she replied. Not the kind of response the businessman wanted to hear.

"We have been patient with you these past three years!" Kyuuto stood from his seat and shouted in frustration. "The master has grand plans for Soleil, and this project is the key to its success! We can't afford any more delays!"

"Then let me put this to you in simple terms," Kalina explained for what was perhaps the fiftieth time to her recollection. "This is a very delicate stage in her development. If she is to master her newfound abilities, we cannot rush her whatsoever. Unless, of course, you wish to break her, to which this project would be for naught. I am sure the master can afford a little delay."

Kyuuto let out a dry laugh. He has heard this explanation countless times in the past, each time less believable than the last. It was all he could do to keep himself from striking the woman down with his bare hands.

"The master won't be pleased," he growled.

"She will be ready when she is ready. No more, no less."

* * *

"You do realize this is getting us nowhere."

"I'll kill you!"

Where was all that energy when I needed it before, he thought. He had to admit, despite coming from a near comatose state, Jin still had plenty of pent up energy in his system. Of course, all that spunk meant nothing coming from a man that barely recovered from what was yet another attempt of over-glorified suicide of sorts, and currently has the strength of what he perceives a weak kitten. Still, the constant lunges and the baring of canines were rather impressive, if not utterly futile. Entertaining as it may seem, time was a very rare commodity.

And at this very moment, Kazuya Mishima, former CEO of Mishima Zaibatsu and G-Corporation, had very little time to waste.

"Jin… Jin," Kazuya grunted in his usual, smooth, sardonic tone, still pinning the struggling man down.

"Shut up!"

"I would love to continue this, but… Jin… listen, boy – "

"I'll kill you, Kazuya!"

"This is not the time…"

_CRACK!_

Kazuya reeled as one of Jin's fists managed to connect to his jaw. Not bad, he thought to himself. A decent right hook from the weak kitten, one that actually stung. A punch that father would pay back his son in kind…

_CRUNCH! SMACK! CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRACK!_

* * *

Finally, after two hours in that grueling office and now rid of that nagging nuisance, Kalina made her way down the halls towards the Soleil laboratory. As she made her way to the massive sliding doors, the scientist reached into her pocket and fished out a small keycard. Standing on front of the interface, she punched the card into a small slot, one that barely fit the card itself, leaned towards the speaker, and began another routine of identification to the computer before her.

"Kalina Romov."

At the sound of her voice, the machinery whirred to life as the computer quickly scanned a light beam over her eye, and processed both her voice and the information contained within the card.

_Retina scan complete. Voice pattern recognition confirmed._

With a resounding hiss, the massive doors slid open, and Kalina stepped into yet another security checkpoint. The moment she stepped in, the doors immediately hissed shut behind her.

* * *

Sleep.

Oh how Jin had longed for the stillness of absolute slumber.

Peace.

Tranquility.

Circulation…

Binds?

Duct tape?

Oxygen!

Jin awoke with a start, beads of sweat dripping from his brow as he struggled for breath.

"My apologies," Kazuya grunted, casually peeling back the duct tape over his son's nose, though took care to keep his lips absolutely sealed. "I over estimated the size of your mouth, so – "

"Mmph!"

"Yes, to the point… though it may seem a little excessive, since you wouldn't listen to me while I was trying to be hospitable, well… it had come down to… this," the scarred man finished his thought. 'This' as in binding his son to a wooden chair, ropes knotted so tight, circulation to his wrists and ankles barely flow. The duct tape to the face though, that was for fun.

"Mmmph! Mmmmmph!"

"Ugh…" Kazuya rolled his eyes. "Now you listen to me, _boy_," he emphasized with a snarl as he grabbed Jin by the hair and violently jerked his head back. Kazuya himself leaned over till both men were staring at each other eye to eye, his voice straining to keep his temper in check. "Given your… current situation, I could snap your neck any time I want, putting an end to your very existence. And given that you're about as annoying as a cockroach, believe me, I would take great pleasure doing so. However, there are more pressing matters at the moment that need my attention, and though I would love nothing more than to toss you down a bottomless _pit_," he spat, glaring at Jin with his crimson left eye, "there is a very good reason why you are still alive, one which I would gladly explain if I was given the chance. Unfortunately, my patience is quite thin. Do not provoke me any further, or you will face the consequences. Understand?"

Jin simply glared at his host in silence, but offered no other resistance.

"Excellent."

With that, Kazuya ripped the duct tape off of Jin's mouth.

* * *

The lights of the checkpoint shut itself out, enveloping the scientist in darkness save for the computer in the background whirring to life. The scientist waited patiently as red beams encircled her, the system doing a sweeping scan of Kalina while checking for any unwanted and miscellaneous items. Before she knew it, the beams stopped its dance, and the security system blinked shut.

_Scan complete. Identity confirmed. Welcome, Dr. Kalina Romov._

At that moment, the lights in the room suddenly blared back on, and a second door at the opposite end opened. Kalina walked out of the security checkpoint, and into a passage of dim lights and cold steel.

* * *

"Tell me, have you heard of Soleil Inc.?" Kazuya asked.

Jin's face still stung from the duct tape ripped from his mouth, and the wrists still felt sore and tingly from the binds, but decided not to press the matter any further. At least not at the moment.

"If you mean what the public knows, most definitely," he replied. "Considered to be the next major powerhouse in the medicinal business, amongst other things."

"That's what the company wants the world to think," Kazuya added.

Jin nodded in agreement. "I've had some dealings with Soleil when I was Mishima Zaibatsu's CEO, though really, Soleil itself is just a cover for an even bigger organization of sorts. I'm more than well aware of their… other practices. Amongst other things, genetics is one of their specialties, but especially of the kind we're both familiar with."

"Sounds like you don't need much explanation," Kazuya grinned. "Good. Let's move on." Reaching over a dusty countertop, he pulled a yellow envelope and emptied its contents.

"Here," Kazuya said, handing the papers over to his son. Jin took the items from his father and began to sort through the items in question. Various charts, diagrams, papers with financial information and scientific jargon that he cared not to see. His eyes caught a glimpse of a photograph, along with some papers clipped behind. Curious, he began to examine these pictures, those labeled in red letters –

* * *

Hanako Yamada.

That's what everyone else called her.

In another lifetime, she had a different name; what that name was, it was long forgotten. She also remembered other things, like the rhythmic crash of water against the side of a cliff, mountains tall and majestic reaching towards the heavens, and the warmth of sunshine caressing her face with a smile.

There were other memories she could recall. She remembered the laughter of children playing in the sand, an old dog yelping and scampering about, the splash of opening a bottle Ramune for the first time, or the taste of onigiri from the corner store. She even remembered other little details, such as that little blue bow tied on her head, or having brown eyes.

How did all this change? The sounds of the waters were replaced with the low monotonous hum of machinery. The massive walls of steel and computer terminals surrounded her instead of the mountains. The cold stare of blinking green and blue lights greeted her everyday instead of the warmth of the sun. No longer any children laughing or the old dog barking, now Hanako is surrounded by men and women in lab coats, studying her, probing her constantly. She was denied even the luxury of a simple snack or a real bed, her time spent mostly inside a glass container.

And her hair… her hair no longer tied up or held by a bow. Now nothing held her shoulder length mane, left disheveled and brushed back save for some strands parted in the middle and drooped against the sides of her forehead. Her cocoa brown eyes were traded for a pair of golden orbs… hideous golden orbs.

And one other feature she noticed. A black mark just below her right shoulder… or perhaps more accurately, a brand… The mark of a demon…

"How is Hanako doing?" she heard a voice chime.

"Dr. Romov," another replied. "Readings are more or less the same. How was your meeting?"

"Productive as usual," was the response. "And the seals?"

"Still keeping the beast in check. The last transfusion was pretty heavy for Hanako to handle, but the binds haven't broken."

"Good. Prepare for the final phase."

Dread took hold of Hanako as she heard those words, yet she was too paralyzed for her body to respond.

"Now? We only just completed the last phase not too long ago. Are you sure of this?"

_No… No… No… No…_

"As much as I would like to take my time with this, we have a schedule to keep and the master is awaiting results. And the less visits I take to Mr. Ishida's office, the better. We will take the necessary precautions, but we shall begin the procedure once I get Hanako prepped."

_No… No… No… No…_

"Understood."

_No… No… No… No…_

Her thoughts froze as a face stared back at her through the glass. Again, Hanako was too paralyzed for her body to move, not even to scream…

* * *

"I see you're interested already," Kazuya mocked, watching his son seemingly marvel at the photograph. Jin nearly dropped the photograph in his hand at the remark, and simply replied with a stone cold glare. All this managed to do was add more fuel to Kazuya's teasing.

"Don't give me that look, boy," Kazuya chuckled. "We're both men, it's only natural to look at pretty women. A little on the pale side, but not all that bad, and if I was twenty years younger, I would love to – "

"Spare me the nonsense," Jin let out a growl. "What exactly do you want?"

"Would you believe me if I told you I wished to save the world?"

Jin glared at his father.

"You're right, that wasn't even funny at all," Kazuya shuddered. "However, Soleil does have something I want… something I wish to save."

Jin did all he could to keep himself from laughing.

"Really? Never mind the fact that it's crazy to believe that the great Kazuya Mishima has something he wishes to 'save'. The very idea of helping you makes my skin crawl. Damn you, the very idea that I'm even your offspring makes my skin crawl! Give me one good reason why I should even bother with you!"

"What, you mean that picture wasn't enough?" Kazuya chuckled. Jin cleared his throat in response.

"To the point," Kazuya sighed. "I shall give you not one, but _two_ reasons why you should assist me. Well, aside from saving your worthless life and providing you with pictures, of course."

Jin let out an audible growl at the words.

"The first reason," Kazuya continued, "Amongst the files you so conveniently skipped included a possible 'cure' for your… curse."

"Genocell?" Jin scoffed.

"No, nothing like that," Kazuya assured him. "I am talking about a true agent that can neutralize the Devil Gene, one without the mutations or side effects, one that won't outright kill the patient, and more importantly, one that won't require you to kill off another monster or jump off a cliff."

Jin looked at his father quizzically, and scanned the rest of the files in his hand.

"No offence," Jin said while tossing the files on the table. "I don't believe you. I don't believe there is a cure. In fact, I bet there is another plan within this 'offer' of yours, one which, no doubt, involves gaining more power and something to the extent of ruling the world. Even if such a cure exists, how can you be certain it even works? Again, what exactly do you want?"

Kazuya's lips thinned at the remark, and though his face or posture betrayed no other hint of emotion, Jin could almost swear his father seemed a little pained at the question asked. Finally, the former G-Corporation CEO reached into his pocket, and handed Jin over a small, delicate object.

Reason number two.

* * *

As much as he hated his little meetings with Dr. Romov, Kyuuto dreaded his meetings with the master even more.

For one, the setting always gave him the creeps. Though Soleil meant 'sun' in French, the office of the master was anything but sunny. In fact, it was virtually devoid of any light, merely a large windowless expanse of pitch black, save for a single desk and a spotlight at the other end of the room. For another, it's the master himself. Shroud in darkness, enveloped in mystery, no one save for only the most trusted employees have ever seen his face. Even now, the master sits comfortably with his chair swiveled to the wall, affording not even a glimpse of his figure. Kyuuto himself, in spite of the dialogue he had in the past few years, has never seen the master's face once, yet he swears he isn't human. He couldn't understand how his mind came to this conclusion, and Kyuuto is not one to make wild speculations. Perhaps it's the chills that constantly run down his spine, the pressure that constantly weigh in on him down to his very core. And the voice…

"What did the good doctor have to say, Ishida?" The voice was deep, smooth, yet chilling all at once.

It was enough for Kyuuto to feel agoraphobic. The middle aged man swallowed a lump in his throat, and approached the desk with as much courage as he could muster.

"The same damn thing like last time," Kyuuto replied. "My apologies, master. I told her many times this cannot wait, yet Dr. Romov insisted that Hanako needed more time."

"Really?"

"Yes," Kyuuto cleared his throat. "Again, my apologies, master. I realize how important Hanako's completion is to both you and the company. I shall personally see to it that Dr. Romov does not delay this any further and – "

"Spare me, Ishida," the master interrupted in a bored voice. "I have also heard _those_ words countless times."

Kyuuto winced and shirked back.

"My… my apologies…" The man was rendered speechless. A moment of silence passed, though to Kyuuto it felt like decades.

"See to it the good doctor keeps her word and completes Hanako in time," the master finally spoke. "In the meantime, we have other matters to deal with, including our preparations for our special guests."

* * *

Jin sat dumbfounded at the revelation.

Kazuya kept a stoic appearance, arms crossed over his chest as he watched his son struggle to process the latest information. For the first time since the day started, both father and son saw eye to eye on a subject, and given the shock he initially felt when he received this news, Kazuya remained silent.

Meanwhile, Jin's hands shook as he did all he could to keep his emotions in check. He wasn't sure how to feel at this very moment, never mind knew how to even take the news.

Finally…

"You're lying to me," Jin hissed.

Kazuya slumped against the wall and glanced up towards the ceiling.

"I was like you when I found out myself," he explained, the edge in his voice softened. "I also thought it was a lie, yet the evidence is as plain as day. Look at it again."

Jin hung his head low and clenched his teeth hard. He cursed to himself silently as his body shook. Jin opened his mouth as though wanting to say something, yet felt his voice crack as he attempted to speak. Flustered, he cursed to himself again. Kazuya merely watched his son quietly in the background, allowing the information to be further digested.

"Damn you, Kazuya…"

Jin slowly stood from his seat, approached his father with defiant steps, and gave him his most menacing glare.

"This better not be some sick joke, or else…"

"Believe me when I say this… this is something I would never lie about," Kazuya looked back at his son and met his gaze with a stone cold expression. "Not even to you."

Jin huffed as he turned away from Kazuya. Inwardly, he told himself he shouldn't help this monster whatsoever. After all, a Mishima is fated to betray each other, and this cursed bloodline was doing this ever since his grandfather, the late Heihachi Mishima, did so to his very own father, the legendary Jinpachi Mishima. The memory of being shot by Heihachi and the Tekken Corps still ran fresh in his mind as though it was yesterday. Kazuya himself is no different than Heihachi himself in that regard when he threw him off a cliff so many years ago. Hell, even Jin followed in his fathers' footsteps and brought the rest of the world into his war, and the thought of that was enough to make his blood freeze.

And yet, despite his tough exterior, Jin could sense a hint of emotion in his father's words. A small hint, but a rather obvious one nevertheless. It was perhaps the one chink he found in what was otherwise Kazuya's impenetrable armor.

Jin stared at the object in his hand once more and held it tight. A moment of further contemplation from all the evidence, he shook his head in disgust and cursed to himself for what he was about to do.

"Where do we begin?"

Kazuya's bushy eyebrows furrowed as he reached into his pocket, and procured a pair of smaller envelopes, both adorned with a very familiar red seal.

The seal of the King of Iron Fist Tournament.

"We begin by answering the invitation."

* * *

"Pardon me for asking, but are we certain they will show up?" Kyuuto asked.

He could feel the wind change in the room as the chilling voice replied, "They _will_ come." Kyuuto felt like kicking himself for even asking such a foolish question.

"A… Again, I apologize…"

"Your apologies are empty to me," the master snapped. "I keep you around because you are still of use to me, but do not test my patience any further. Is that understood?"

"Y-yes, master."

"Good. See to the rest of the preparations, and keep me informed. You are dismissed."

With a quick bow, Kyuuto steadily made his way towards the door, and gladly let himself out of the office, leaving the master alone in the darkness. The dim spotlight flickered against his lips as he leaned back on his chair, and allowed himself a malicious smile.

"Kazuya… Jin… I'll be waiting."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** Thus is the prologue and beginning of the story. This will likely be the only note I will add to the story, unless something unique comes up otherwise. The one thing I want to get completely out of the way more than anything is the fact there is no set timeline. The only thing for certain is that the events of Kings and Queens happened after the sixth tournament. This is to allow the possibility of, perhaps, a seventh or eighth tournament to occur in between to (hopefully) minimize any conflict Namco may come up with for whatever new installment they put together. Setting the story this way just gives me more room for creativity, to stretch my limbs, so to speak. Of course, this may all still backfire on me, but since nothing else is set in stone, what the heck. Well, what can I say, except enjoy it. Comments and feedback are welcome.


	2. Stage 1

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 1_

Jane laid in her bed sound asleep while her guardian angel looked on.

This was the first time the military droid, designated 'Black Jack', had seen her sleep so soundly since the collapse of G Corporation. For the most part, Jane herself rarely ever slept, always busy with the next Jack production model to please the corporate suits while simultaneously behind the scenes trying to revive the old Jack 2 personality she so loved and cherished since she was a little girl. One could say it was an obsession, as she dedicated her life in the field of science and robotics, all for the sake of her savior and friend. It didn't matter that it made her an outcast even amongst her peers; all that mattered to her was her dear Jack.

For all the frustrations she had endured, years of work and dedication eventually paid off, as Jack 2's memories were recovered and implanted into each new successive Jack model. After years of hard work and many design modifications later, she finally settled on the current model, the Black Jack model, and uploaded Jack 2's AI into the new droid. As far as she was concerned, Black Jack was the culmination of blood, sweat, and tears. It was the ultimate droid ever created, crafted with the most state of the art technology ever invented, a robot to superior to anything, including the android Alisa Bosconovitch.

One that could never be defeated, one that could never be destroyed.

One that would never leave her side again.

Of course, she kept that fact a secret and simply played the loyal scientist lest they discovered her activities. Having watched Jack 2 get taken away from her so many years ago as a child was already unbearable then. The second time nearly killed her, physically and psychologically, as she watched Jack 2, then known as Gun Jack, nearly get destroyed while protecting her from the Tekken Corps. Finally, however, all the pain and fears can be put to rest. After all, nothing can stop Black Jack. And nothing would separate them now…

Black Jack, or simply 'Jack', could do nothing else except to sit and watch as Jane's health deteriorates before his opticals. In a reversal of roles, it was Jane who protected Jack during the final days of the war between the Mishima Zaibatsu and the G Corporation. The result was a near fatal injury that kept her bedridden as well as a bounty on both their heads. For all the gadgets and weapons he had gained, it meant absolutely nothing.

Jack felt alone.

Jack, the ultimate weapon, felt completely useless, and utterly helpless to do anything. He couldn't simply take her to a hospital; neither one had any real funds to speak of since their escape, and frankly, the sight of an eight foot caricature of a man carrying a frail young woman would cause too much attention. They were, after all, wanted criminals.

Jack himself was not programmed with medical knowledge whatsoever. In fact, every Jack line since the first prototype was designed specifically for combat, and Black Jack was no different. Fighting was the only thing he knew, literally hardwired into his processors. Medical information would be considered a waste of drive space. Who the hell came up with that idea?

Jack, out of sheer frustration, wanted to punch a hole through the wall. Of course, that was also out of the question. The walls to begin with were quite worn out and frail, the supports behind barely keeping the building in one piece. Add the fact that his dark, disproportionately massive arms could crush a rock with so much as a mere swipe, and the whole structure could come tumbling down on their heads.

Jack hated his options.

The massive droid reached over to grab an envelope between his huge index finger and thumb, and scanned the red seal for what had to be the one hundred seventy nine thousand six hundred and thirty eighth time. His opticals burned red as he delicately removed the invitation from the envelope.

It was only a few days ago (3 days, fourteen hours, thirty seven minutes, and thirteen seconds ago according to his logs) that someone from Soleil Inc. discovered their hiding place and made the offer. Soleil Inc. can help her recover, wipe the records of wrongdoing, and keep the two together for the rest of their days.

All Jack had to do was participate in the Iron Fist Tournament. Again. That, and a few other assignments here and there. What is one more tournament? What is one more job?

Jack really hated his options.

The droid calculated the probabilities for the nine hundred and seventy billionth time, and the conclusion still didn't sit all that well. And yet, this was the only proper course of action.

Jack turned his head to Jane, the servos in his neck whirred as he performed that motion. He raised his massive right hand to the woman's forehead, and gently brushed her hair with his finger.

He needed Jane as much as Jane needed him.

_Incoming Transmission…_

Jack immediately stood up from his seat and stared blankly at the wall as communications was established.

_Encrypted Message, Priority Code Blue…_

First assignment before the tournament. There is no turning back.

Saving Jane is his prime directive.

_Target Objective…_

* * *

Jin walked into a bar one day, said to the bartender, 'I want a drink'.

_SHATTER!_

A couple minutes and three broken glasses later, the joke stopped being funny.

"*****!"

"Better a ***** than a whore, slut!"

"*****!"

"Minx!"

_I wish I was dead…_

Gazing at the broken shards in his hand, Jin dropped the useless glass on the counter and, brushing aside his bangs, rubbed his weary eyes with both hands as the Williams sisters, Nina and Anna, fought in what had to be the hundredth time. The rivalry between the two siblings is considered both brutal and legendary, sometimes lasting for hours, other times lasting for days, and typically results in some form of property damage. Thankfully, no guns this time around, just hands, feet, and insults, though it provided very little comfort to both owner and customer alike.

"Bartender."

"Y-yes?"

"Another one."

"Y-yes, sir."

The bartender gingerly reached over to grab a new glass, and yelped as a chair flew towards his direction and narrowly missed his head. Frightened, yet embarrassed, the bartender fumbled for one of the bottles and began to pour its contents. His hand shook as the Williams sisters continued their sibling rivalry at the expense of the establishment.

"Bartender."

"Y-yes, sir?"

"Pour faster."

"Y-yes, sir."

"Argh!" Nina cried out, as her younger sister delivered a flying kick to the side of her face, sending the blonde assassin flying backwards, flipping over a table, and crashing to the floor. The older sister shook her head briefly, her mind barely registered as Anna pressed her advantage with a short lunge.

"Here you go, sir," the bartender trembled, holding the new glass.

"Thank you."

The next moment, Anna's advantage vanished as Nina flipped away just in time to avoid her sister's charge. In one smooth motion, Nina rolled forward, and like a cat, pounced at her stunned sister, all the while Jin lifted yet another drink to his lips.

_CRASH!_

_SHATTER!_

A cue ball flew towards his glass and shattered it in his hands as Anna crashed into one of the pool tables. Jin dropped the remains on the table and grumbled a few choice words to himself.

"Bartender."

"Y-yes?"

"Another one."

"Y-yes, sir."

As Anna tried to stand up, Nina quickly timed her charge and knocked Anna to her back. The younger sister barely managed to recover as she rolled backwards and hopped immediately back on her feet, just in time to block Nina's right hand.

"Hurry up."

"Y-yes, sir."

Anna retaliated with a quick right kick to the head, which Nina expertly blocked with ease and countered with an open palm strike. Anna grabbed the outstretched arm and attempted to place her sister in an arm lock. By sheer fighter's instinct, Nina twisted and freed her arm before Anna could apply any semblance of pressure, then attempted another strike. As expected, Anna managed to avoid the attack and attempted a sequence of chops and swipes followed by a somersault kick. And as expected from the older sister, Nina defended herself and attempted a sequence of swipes of her own and a strike with both palms out into a double handed clout…

"Minx!"

"*****!"

"Slut!"

"Stop calling me slut, you psycho *****!"

"Slut!"

"*****!"

"Slut-slut-slut-slut-slut!"

"*****!"

…And the exchange of blows and cheap insults went on and on, etcetera, etcetera…

"Uh… h-here you go, sir…"

"Thank you – "

_SHATTER!_

Jin tossed the newly shattered glass with contempt and banged his head against the table.

_What's a man got to do to get drunk?_

"Argh!" Anna suddenly cried out, as Nina managed to knock her sister down to the ground and, wasting no time, wrapped her legs around the left shoulder and pulling at the arm, placing Anna in a middle of an attempted arm bar.

"Girls," a low, chilling voice growled in the middle of their brawl.

"What!" both sisters cried out. Before either sister could protest, both women suddenly felt a pair of strong hands grab them by their throats and tossed them roughly towards a couple of (relatively) intact chairs.

"Behave," the voice replied.

Nina stared at the owner of the voice with stunned silence, while her sister looked with wide eyes.

"Kazuya?" Anna nearly stumbled saying his name.

"Where did that idiot go?" he asked.

"What are you…" Nina's voice trailed as she looked towards the direction of the bar, finally took notice of one panicked bartender, and one Jin Kazama with his head buried under his hands. "Oh…"

* * *

The bartender watched his patrons warily as he cleaned up what was left of his bar. While the compensation for the damages done by the Williams sisters didn't give much comfort, he was glad that the ordeal was over and that he was still alive and in one piece.

Meanwhile, Kazuya sat on one of the remaining stools in the bar and lazily watched his son from a distance.

"Here you go," Anna said while handing him a glass of rum. Without acknowledging the brunette, Kazuya accepted the glass and swirled it slowly in his hand. Not even the seductive brush of her fingers along his shoulder, or the hypnotic sway of her voluptuous hips would deter his concentration. The younger Williams sister was fully aware of that fact, though, of course, that also never deterred her from trying.

"You know, I'd never thought I'd see the day the two of you would walk in together and help each other out," Anna mused as she pulled up a bench and sat beside her former employer, gently crossed her perfectly shaped legs, and casually took a sip from her own glass.

"Don't remind me."

"Must be something big to bring your son along."

"It is not exactly my first choice. And don't call him my son."

"He shares one half of your genes," she shrugged, slowly licking her satin lips, took another sip of her drink, and, with nothing better to do at the moment, watched Jin with Kazuya.

"He's about as much my son as Nina is your sister," Kazuya retorted.

Anna gave him a perplexed look, then let out a sigh of resignation.

"Touché."

Anna sized up Jin with some amusement. As much as both men despised each other, she couldn't help but think how alike father and son were. Aside from sharing the same blood, both Mishima and Devil alike, and aside from the physical attributes, such as the inhuman strength within their thickly developed musculature (which, Anna had to admit, she found rather attractive), or their unusual hairstyle (namely the hair gathering to the back of the head into a sharp point, albeit Kazuya's hair was brushed back with a notable widow's peak to Jin's somewhat frazzled style with bangs over his forehead), both men also possessed what she figured to be an abundance of passion.

An insatiable drive, she thought, one that borderlined on insanity or even addiction.

Though their goals were different, both had this (as politely as the Irish woman could possibly put it) 'urge' to obtain whatever they want to the point of sheer obsession. Kazuya, like his father before him, craved for power, and would do anything to attain it, even if it meant sacrificing lives to do so. Jin wanted total eradication of his bloodline, and had practically brought the world to near ruin on more than one occasion.

_Strong, smart, and sexy_, she thought, allowing herself a brief moment of indulgence in her mind.

"Ugh, that stupid *****," she suddenly growled in disgust, as Nina approached Jin and sat next to him.

* * *

"Mind if I keep you company?" Nina asked politely.

"Do whatever you want," Jin muttered.

Nina pulled up a bench and sat next to the King of Iron Fist champion. As she settled into her seat, the elder Williams sister took a brief, yet causal glance at Kazuya and Anna from a distance, and sighed.

"Stupid whore."

"Not as bad as having Kazuya as your father," Jin scoffed, as he lazily swirled a bottle in his hand.

"I suppose," Nina shrugged. "Are you gonna drink that?"

Jin raised an eyebrow and gave her a slight smirk as he raised his bottle towards her glass. Nina gladly accepted the beverage as he tipped the bottle and poured out its contents.

"Not that I don't mind your proposal," she continued. "I've done far more difficult assignments in the past with less pay than what you're offering. I won't even ask how either of you are going to pay me. It's not like you have a giant corporation to help with the funding."

"You'd be amazed at what I have at my disposal."

"Hence I'm not asking. What I do want to know is what's going on?"

The blonde assassin turned to her former employer with a look of modest concern on her face.

"I've seen you wound up, but never like this. Not even when you brought the corporation down on your head. Literally, I might add."

Jin exhaled softly as he held the bottle gingerly with both hands.

"I take it this is personal?" she asked.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"So much so that you'd even agree to a partnership with Kazuya?"

Jin took a quick sip from his bottle and, swallowing down his bitterness, blinked back the disgust out of his eyes and let out a low, audible groan.

"Please don't remind me," he replied. "This is not exactly my first choice."

"So it's indeed very personal."

"That's right."

"Which probably means you won't tell me anything until the coming tournament."

"Correct."

Nina let out a chuckle, though her expression remained soft.

"Figured as much. Then at least tell me this: why is that minx coming with us?"

Jin raised his head and peeked over his shoulder. Kazuya remained stoic as he swirled his glass lazily in his hand, though Anna acknowledged him with a seductive wink while blowing a slow, sultry kiss at his direction.

"You want the rest of the bottle?"

"Yes, please."

* * *

The master of Soleil Inc. stood in the middle of his office unmoving, shrouding himself in complete darkness. In fact, a little too unmoving, Kyuuto thought, as there was practically no sign of life emanating from the body, not even a twitch or a breath. As far as he was concerned, all he saw in the middle of the spacious room was a cold, hardened statue shaped in the guise of a human being, and not the strong, powerful man of a great financial empire that beckoned him to the office only moments ago. It was all Kyuuto could take as he quietly approached the shadowy figure.

"You called for me, master?" Kyuuto asked apprehensively. He could've sworn his hair stood on end as the 'statue' before him slowly turned his head towards his direction, and glared with a pair of cold, calculating eyes.

"Ishida," the master seethed with his chilling voice. "How are the preparations?"

Kyuuto gulped back a lump in his throat.

"Preparations for the tournament are going as according to plan," the businessman replied. "I have prepared the brackets for the upcoming matches… the turn-out is perhaps the largest we've seen in the history of the Iron Fist, many of them not worthwhile, but still an adequate number of potential fighters you may… collect for your experiments."

"And what of the tests on Hanako?"

"I am happy to report that for once, Hanako's development is proceeding as scheduled," Kyuuto answered with a bow of his head. "Dr. Romov has shown me the results, and she believes that Hanako will be ready for the finals."

"And what of my… special invitees?"

"Our agents are keeping an eye on them as we speak. The past few days, Kazuya and Jin managed to elude us of their whereabouts, though our agents managed to find them in a local bar. That and they've managed to meet with the Williams sisters…"

Kyuuto couldn't make any sort of expression on his master's face, though he could've sworn there was a twinkle of amusement in his otherwise passionless eyes.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, master."

The master slowly turned his head away from Kyuuto, allowing the businessman a momentary repose from scrutiny. That remained short lived as the master bellowed out a… laugh? No, laughter doesn't even describe the thunderous cackle that nearly caused the hairs on his back to stand on end. It was far too inhuman to be any kind of laugh…

"P-pardon me for asking, b-but d-do you know what they could be… up… to…"

"Ishida!" the master snapped.

"Y-yes, master," Kyuuto answered with a start.

"Is that damn robot keeping an eye on them?" the master demanded, completely ignoring Kyuuto's question.

"The Black Jack unit is indeed keeping an eye on them, and awaiting further orders."

"Good," the master hissed. "Very good. Let's make things a little more entertaining for our guests, shall we?"

Kyuuto quietly cleared his throat before he spoke.

"What do you have in mind, master?"

The only reply Kyuuto received was an eerie smile in the dark.

* * *

"Are you kidding me?" Anna rolled her eyes.

In a rare moment of insanity, possibly the result of the planets of the solar system coming to complete alignment, Nina shared the exact same sentiments as her sister as a group of small time thugs appeared the moment they left the bar. Typical punks in ripped denim and leather, a complete lack in fashion sense, she thought. Kazuya chose to remain quiet, though inside he was swelling with impatience. Jin seemed mildly amused in comparison, both from the punks making their apparent challenge, and the different reactions from his 'companions'.

"No, seriously, are you kidding me?" Anna deadpanned with disbelief.

"We heard you the first time, slut," Nina said with an underlying tone of annoyance.

"You stupid bi – "

"Well, these boys look like they mean business," Nina cut her off. "So, Jin, Kazuya… what shall we do?"

While Kazuya remained stone cold, Jin sized up his opposition, if one can call them such. As far as he could tell, there were at least ten men that he could see, though most likely double the number hidden within the other buildings, possibly even more. Most of them were armed with simple weapons, mainly knives and chains, though some have pistols concealed within their jackets. In other words, the thugs don't really stand a chance.

"If they want a fight," Jin answered, stepping forward as he spoke, "We shouldn't disappoint."

With that, Jin fell to his fighting stance, positioning his body in a forty five degree angle while stepping forward with his left leg and placing his right leg further back. With both legs bent, he raised his fists in a single smooth motion, and leaned forward ever so slightly with his torso into a perfect karate stance. Jin glared at his thugs with utmost concentration.

"Hm," Nina shrugged, and followed suit with her employer, falling into her own fighting stance, both hands open instead of balled into fists, arms held higher to her face, and her torso kept in a straight posture. Her body was positioned also in a forty five degree angle, though her legs were positioned closer to each other, giving Nina a more compact stance in comparison to the former King of Iron Fist.

Anna threw her arms out in defeat.

"Why not," she muttered, assuming a similar Aikido stance as her sister's.

"Ugh…" Kazuya groaned, though remained neutral and folded his arms across his chest.

"Too lowly a challenge for the mighty Kazuya to bother?" Anna teased. "Afraid those peasants would soil those handsome fists of yours?" The brunette shook her head in disgust. "I don't blame you."

"Quit your whining, slut."

"Hey, shut your trap, *****!"

"Who you calling a *****, dumb slut?"

"Oh, nice come back, psycho *****!"

"Oh, I'm shaking, psycho whore."

"You better be, stupid – "

"Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!" The Williams sisters ducked just in time as one of the thugs sailed over their heads and hit the asphalt with a dull thud. Stunned, Nina and Anna turned to see a small pile of bodies littered on the ground and Jin dashing forward and landing a quick right hook squarely to the jaw of his next victim. That brief commotion flushed out the rest of the gang in hiding…

"Gah!"

"Argh!"

"Ahhh!"

"Oof!"

"Ugh!"

…though that mattered very little to Jin Kazama as he quickly and methodically eliminated each thug with the precision of a surgeon.

"Hey!" Anna pouted. "Save some for us!"

"Weren't you just whining about getting your hands dirty, slut?" Nina seethed.

"Didn't I tell you to shut that big trap of yours, you stupid fat *****?" Anna countered.

"Whoa, I'm a stupid fat ***** now," Nina mocked. "Honestly, dumb slut, can't you come up with better insults or is your vocabulary really that limited?"

"You are one to talk, dumb *****!" Anna countered, though the younger sister was clearly losing her composure in this banter.

"Move," Kazuya interrupted.

"Huh?" Both sisters barely managed to move out of the way as another body flew between the women and sailed towards Kazuya. With inhuman reflexes, the former G Corporation CEO caught the thug by his leg with one arm and held him to the air until he was face to face with the pitiful display before him.

"Nice catch," Anna nodded with approval.

Turning his focus away from the thug in his hand momentarily, Kazuya watched his son systematically beat the rest of the gang in quick succession with ease. Jin's strength had certainly recovered quickly, he thought to himself, though he couldn't decide whether it was a cause for celebration or a cause for mourning.

Probably more towards the latter, he thought, minus the actual mourning itself and more of the angry rage.

As Kazuya pondered that thought in his head, his expression suddenly changed from stoic to serious as he violently flung the man towards a window from behind. Before the thug made contact with the glass, the window along with the accompanying wall shattered and crumbled as a massive giant of a man crashed through the brick and mortar and knocked the human projectile away with a deft swipe of his massive hand.

_Location breached. Beginning assault on target._

"Tch!"

Immediately, Kazuya turned around and lunged towards the massive figure. The giant himself, in spite of his oversized upper body and proportionately stubby legs, lunged towards the elder Mishima just as swiftly, closing the gap in mere seconds. Upon reaching striking distance, the mammoth giant swung his oversized right hand into a punch. Anticipating such an attack, Kazuya deftly shifted his head to his right, feeling the air sail past his face, and countered with a powerful right of his own to the now exposed midsection.

"Ha!"

The punch connected, knocking the giant off his feet and sending him flying several meters back. Kazuya stood his ground with the usual unreadable expression, his legs slightly bent and spread apart with both arms raised. Such impact from one of Kazuya's fists (or any such impact from a Mishima for that matter) would normally knock out even the most massive of giants, including a Jack modeled robot. Intuition, however, warned him that this one won't be so simple.

_Rrrr…_

Sure enough, fighter's intuition proved correct, as the massive giant in black sat up like he was raised from the dead, and stood back on his feet.

At that moment, Kazuya sized up the mammoth before him; an eight foot giant with a disproportionately large upper body and head in comparison to its legs with glowing red eyes and a metallic mohawk on an otherwise 'shaved' head. From the metallic sheen along the fists and forearms to the honeycomb shaped rivets along the upper arms and near the armpits, coupled with the distinct dark metal plates that cover the upper body down to the waist and the sound of servos whirring with the movement of his neck, this was definitely a Jack type android, though one that no one had ever seen before, not even during Kazuya's days in the G Corporation. Given the machine's ability to keep itself hidden for as long as it did, especially with its obvious size, and given its remarkable durability from that single punch, Kazuya could only draw one conclusion…

"So you must be that girl's pet," he uttered with amusement.

Jack didn't answer; he merely raised his giant fists and bent his knees into a caricature of a fighting stance. His fists whirred and spun on his wrists in a clockwise direction, then stopped and spun in a counter-clockwise direction. Again, Kazuya's intuition warned him of yet another danger…

_Gatling Guns armed and ready._

"Look out!" Anna cried out.

_Open fire._

And once more, Kazuya's intuition proved right as a hail of bullets whizzed towards his direction from a pair of retractable barrels along his forearms. Immediately, Kazuya, Anna, Nina, and Jin broke for cover as the android rained death upon them with his gatling guns.

"You have got to be kidding me," Anna pouted.

In another rare moment of insanity, possibly the result of ten suns exploding all at once followed by a formation of a galaxy killing black hole, Nina shared the exact same sentiments as her sister as she quickly dived behind a beat up car to avoid the bullets that came inches away from killing her. If that wasn't enough, intuition warned Kazuya and the rest of his 'companions' of yet an even greater danger…

"Oh, you have _really_ got to be kidding me!"

And intuition, unfortunately, proved right once more as the gatling guns stopped its assault, only for the honeycomb shaped rivets along Jack's upper arms opened. At the same time, the plates on his shoulders also opened along with several small rivets along his legs popped up.

All of them revealed missiles underneath.

_Missiles armed and ready._

"Yes…" Nina replied in a hushed tone. "We heard you the first time… slut!"

_Targets locked._

"Stop calling me that… psycho *****!" Anna replied in a similar tone.

"This really is not a good time to continue your squabble," Jin interjected.

_Open fire._


	3. Stage 2

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 2_

Hanako Yamada.

That's what everyone called her.

In another lifetime, she had a different name; what that name was, it was long forgotten. She also remembered other things, like the smell of blossoms in an open field wafting through her nose, the birds greeting her every bright morning with its beautiful melodies, the rugged yet gentle voice of a man smiling down at her with the most warm, loving eyes in the whole wide world. Though her memories were hazy, she could have sworn that man was her father…

There were other memories she could recall. She remembered the coos and cries of a baby as she held him… or her in her arms. A sibling, she thought to herself, though the name remained fuzzy at best… There was a lullaby she heard, soft, gentle, peaceful… it used to put both the baby and herself to sleep. Or the taste of fresh strawberries grown from the garden, fruit so ripe and juicy it practically melts in the mouth. She remembered other details, such as the fiery mane of red hair she once had tied in an intricate braid, or having emerald green eyes… and unusual combination.

"Fusion rate is at seventy percent."

"What of her vitals?"

"Heart rate stable… blood pressure… brain wave activity, all normal."

How did all this change? Gone was the smell of blossoms in the spring. Gone was the song of hymns sung by the birds. Gone was the jolly man, whom she believed was her father, who greeted her with a hearty laugh and gentle love of a parent to his child. Gone was the young babe whom she cradled in her arms, or the lullaby that used to put her to sleep. Gone was the taste of fresh strawberries, or any food for the matter.

In fact, everything was gone… nothing was left, not even her red hair or her emerald jewels…

"Fusion rate now at seventy three percent and rising."

"Any changes?"

"None whatsoever. Hanako is still stable."

Now her hair was black, black as the night itself, brushed back and disheveled save for the few strands of hair hanging over her forehead. Her glistening green emeralds were traded for a pair of golden orbs… hideous golden orbs.

And one other feature she noticed. A black mark just below her right shoulder… or perhaps more accurately, a brand… The mark of a demon…

"Increase the dosage."

_What?_

"By how much?"

"Bring it to about eleven percent for now, and we'll add increments of two every three minutes."

_No…_

Dread took hold of Hanako once more as she heard those words, yet she was too paralyzed for her body to respond.

"Yes, Doctor. Eleven percent to the flow…"

_No… No… No… No…_

"Now…"

_No… No… No… No…_

"What's her status?"

_No… No… No… No…_

"Heart rate has gone up, as expected… blood pressure and readouts also up… naturally… but otherwise nothing out of the ordinary."

"And the seals?"

"Still keeping the beast in check."

"Good. Let's loosen the binds just a little more… see how much more she could take."

_No… No… No… No…_

Her thoughts froze as a face stared back at her through the glass. Again, Hanako was too paralyzed for her body to move, not even to scream…

* * *

Anna pushed away the charred rubble and wiped the soot off her now ruined dress.

"That wasn't too bad," Nina commented, similarly wiping the dirt off her own outfit.

"Not too bad?" Anna twitched. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Oh boy…"

"First we just got shot at with a hail of bullets, then barely managed to escape after being bombarded with missiles… _missiles_… all the while having half the block fall on top of us thanks to that big tin can of a robot (with absolutely hideous taste in aesthetics, I might add)… and… and… now… my dress… ruined…"

"And we're alive to complain about it, and that's all that matters," Nina brushed her hair vigorously as she spoke.

"Heartless *****!" Anna spat. "That outfit was brand new, and it got ruined! If I ever find that… that… robot… I'll rip that tin can to shreds!"

"Will you just _shut up?_!" Nina shook angrily. "And you wonder why I call you a psycho slut! Seriously, the fact we managed to survive with everything else intact is a good thing. I just wonder if our employers managed to do the same thing."

The brunette raised a finger at her older sibling, but stopped short of unleashing her diatribe.

"Kazuya? Jin?"

"Yes… our pay check," Nina seethed.

Anna glared at her sister for a brief moment, but then retracted herself with a slightly bothered look in her expression. That last line along with the unsettling glint in the blonde assassin's eyes didn't sit well with the buxom brunette.

"Wait – wait a minute… that little bit you said there… pay check? Did you just go mental or something?"

"Excuse me?" Nina twitched.

"We survived life and limb after a hail of bullets and missiles, the lives of two men are still unknown after half this block got blown up, and you're worried about the pay check?"

"I have no idea what you're getting at."

"I mean, I realize the occupation you do typically requires a whole lot of killing and maiming and stuff, but, really… pay check?"

"Far better than the two dollars you usually get for _your_ 'occupation', dumb slut," Nina snapped back. Instead of the typical response to her insults, Anna simply gave her older sister a flabbergasted look and shook her head while she unconsciously put one hand on her voluptuous hip.

"And you wonder why _I_ call you a psycho *****."

"And I'm tempted to snap your neck," Nina growled at Anna's accusation, "But we've got more important things to do, like finding where Jin and Kazuya ran off to before that damn robot shows up."

And the moment she uttered those prophetic words did Anna suddenly dove for cover. Confused, Nina's face drained of any color as she realized that Jack had his sights set on her, and a missile was not too far behind…

* * *

Hanako Yamada.

That's what everyone called her… though she couldn't understand why… the name seemed too generic, even for a nobody such as herself…

No matter, in another lifetime, she had a different name; what that name was, it was long forgotten. She also remembered other things, like the harsh, cold temperature of frigid water, causing her skin to create goose bumps, the disgusting smell of sweat, decay, and feces in the market, the constant feelings of hunger, sickness… loneliness…

There were other memories she could recall. Some vivid, colorful, yet dull all at once. Some little details, such as the fact she had large, cocoa brown eyes, and short black hair that never seemed to stay where she wants, those she remembered quite distinctly. Others, a little on the morbidly excruciating side. One memory in particular involved an abusive man whom she called 'father', and splatters of crimson along her arms…

Memories that she tried not to think about…

"Fusion rate has now risen to eighty percent. Seals are still holding… life signs, nothing new to report."

How did it all change? Then again, what really _has_ changed? No more frigid waters from the rain to drench her skin; now the cold comes from the musty, sterilized air itself. The disgusting smells or the noise of the run down market no longer rang in her ears, now it's the constant noise of buzzes and hollow voices that greet her every day. No more feelings of hunger or sickness, though now she couldn't even lift a finger to move.

Fingers, she realized, that don't seem to belong to her at all. Nor the strands of long hair swept back save for the bangs hanging over her forehead. Nor the hideous golden orbs that since replaced her cocoa brown eyes. Nor the brand seared on her right arm… the mark of a devil…

And as for the loneliness…

"And let's hope it remains that way a little longer. Increase the dosage."

And the pain…

"Alright, you heard the lady, increase the dosage, and hope her brains don't spill."

And the torment…

"Dosage up eleven percent."

And the pressure…

"Heart rate is erratic."

And the dullness…

"Brain wave activity has gone up."

And… and…

"Eighty two percent and rising."

Her thoughts froze as a face stared back at her through the glass. Hanako was too paralyzed for her body to move.

At that point, however, Hanako was too exhausted to care.

And at that point, Hanako succumbed to sleep…

* * *

"That… that was a very nice move," Nina stuttered. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Jin replied with a slight grimace in his expression.

Moments ago, Nina felt her life end the moment she heard the missile launch behind her. The next moment, as she braced herself for the afterlife, Jin stepped in just in the nick of time and managed to parry the missile with his bare hands. For any ordinary human being, blocking a missile was no different than committing suicide. For Jin Kazama, however, catching mere missiles would be a simple feat for one with Mishima blood in his veins.

Even if he is only a mere shell of himself thus far.

"You alright?" she asked with more than a hint of concern.

"I'll live long enough to make sure you cash your pay," Jin grunted, as he assumed his karate stance. Ripples of red lightning engulfed his fists as he exhaled audibly, preparing himself for the android's next attack.

"That wasn't what I meant – "

"Sure it wasn't, *****," Anna chirped.

"Shut up, slut!" Nina snapped.

"Coming from someone who once tried to kill both our customers, that's rich."

"Which part of 'shut up' don't you understand?" Nina grumbled, then turned back to Jin. "Seriously, impressive as that display was, I've seen you do similar feats like this without so much breaking a sweat."

"A slight exaggeration," Jin answered, inching steadily towards the black giant. Jack merely watched the former Zaibatsu CEO, scanning him intently with his cold, crimson eyes, all while maintaining his peripheral on the Williams sisters.

"Yes, well, either way, you're not exactly in top shape right now, and by the looks of things, I doubt that fact escaped him either," Nina surmised with a gesture towards the android.

As much as Jin hated to admit it, Nina was correct in her assessment; blocking that projectile took more effort than it usually did, and though much of his original strength had returned, he still felt rather weak. Improvement or not, and this new machine was very impressive, this upgraded Jack model should not have depleted him so quickly. And though the droid before him was a mass of metal with proportions that were more suited for a gorilla than a man, fighter's intuition told Jin that this Jack model was neither slow, nor stupid.

Jin, he supposed, should be thankful that, thus far, it is three against one in his favor.

Before Jin could ponder his predicament any further, Jack raised his massive right arm at his direction, and opened fire with his gatling gun. While the Williams sisters dodged to the side, Jin sidestepped and weaved around the hail of bullets, finding cover behind some run down walls and destroyed objects along the way, then methodically made a mad dash towards the mammoth droid.

"Idiot!" Nina spat.

Eyes glaring crimson, Jack immediately withdrew his guns and prepared to meet the King of Iron Fist champion head on with his fists.

* * *

Hanako Yamada.

That's what everyone called him… though he couldn't understand why. As far as he could tell, he wasn't Japanese, and 'Hanako' is supposed to be a woman's name, is it not?

No matter, in another lifetime, he had a different name; what that name was, it was long forgotten. He also remembered other things, like the beautiful landscape overlooking the city from the vantage point of his penthouse, the hustle and bustle of traffic, cell phones, and people alike, the sweet taste of shrimp tempura dipped in soya sauce, or the juicy, mouth watering steak seasoned just right and sizzled to absolute perfection.

There were other memories he could recall. A large canvas… a set of charcoals and paints… and various pictures of intense color for all seasons. Yes, there were many pictures, and lots of paper strewn in his room.

Most vivid of all was a woman… not just any woman, but rather a goddess. Everything was beautiful about her, from the golden blonde mane on her head, to the hypnotic, musical voice…

The way she walked, her movements smooth and full of grace…

The sight of her smile, the smell of her perfume, the touch of her soft, satin skin…

And she never flaunted herself, even though the goddess had every right to do so. In fact, most curious of all, the goddess chose him above all else.

Him, not others.

And she chose him not for his money, though eventually he gained enough wealth over time to live a more comfortable lifestyle, nor for his looks, for he had very little hair on his head save for the few strands of brown, or the plain facial features from the large crooked nose to the droops underneath his eyes, and most telling of all would be the thirty pounds of gut underneath his belly…

How did all that change?

"Fusion rate now at eighty five percent."

"And the vitals?"

"We are really pushing this big time, but so far, Hanako hasn't broken yet."

No more majestic landscape to admire, a penthouse to rest, or the traffic or cell phones or any other form of noise to complain about. No more pencils and paper to use save for the large pads those strange people in lab coats were carrying. His world became devoid of any vibrant color, save for the soft green hues emanating from the bulk heads.

"You look awfully pale."

"Hanako barely managed to make it out of the last phase, and the process has been getting more and more delicate the further we go. Eighty six percent and rising."

"And as I said, we can only delay this for so long. Sooner or later, the master would expect to see results."

And the woman… the goddess… she left him. Or did he leave her? No matter, Hanako had nothing left… no home to live, no woman to be with… and not even his own body.

"I understand that, but… this is madness! The tournament was called rather suddenly, don't you think? And the master… I swear, he isn't even – "

"Whatever rumors you've heard about the master, they're simply that: rumors. I have neither the interest nor the tolerance for such trifle things in this lab."

How could he be certain this wasn't his own body? For one, he found hair on his head. A full head of hair, he might add, long, disheveled, yet lustrous, as black as night. For another, the loss of a beer gut. Slim and trim is his stomach, he noted, and it would be something he wouldn't complain about, save for some very curious objects… and a loss of another.

Hanako was not happy with that trade off.

"Fine! But still, super genes or not, Hanako is still a human being! With limits! We can't continue on this path and not expect something to give! Eighty eight percent."

He wanted to stand. He really wanted to stand and leave his current prison, yet his legs would not respond.

"Have a little faith in our work. We are this close to completion, and when Hanako is complete, we will have achieved something that no man or being has ever achieved. Immortality is well within our grasp."

He wanted to bang on the glass. He really wanted to smash the glass open, yet his hands also wouldn't respond. He wanted to cry.

"That's just it. I signed up for this project expecting a breakthrough in medicine along with a hefty severance package. Immortality sounds great, but this is beyond what I expected! And we're hitting eighty nine percent."

He really wanted to cry, yet even there he shed no tears from his golden orbs.

Nothing made sense to him at all.

"Science is full of surprises. It's what makes our field all the more exciting, don't you think?"

Exciting was the last thing Hanako thought of his predicament. At this point, he was tired to feel even the numbing pain throughout his body, too tired to even scream as a face peered through the glass.

"We are this close to cracking the code, getting all the answers we've ever asked. In short, we are this close to godhood. It doesn't get any more exciting than this."

At that point, however, Hanako could care less about what happens to him now.

And at that point, Hanako succumbed to oblivion…

* * *

Even machines can make mistakes.

Here was an example. The moment Jin was within striking distance of the droid, the two immediately went fist to fist with each other, exchanging punch for punch, kick for kick, block for block, and everything in between. During the exchange, Jack noted the lack of strength in his attacks, at least in comparison to what Jin was usually capable of throwing in the past. Over time, he also noted Jin's movements slowing down to the point where the King of Iron Fist champion was on the defensive. As Jack continued his barrage of right handed chops, Jin began to inch backwards, opting to block the blows than to weave or counter. As such, as soon as Jin opened himself up, Jack seized the opportunity to deliver the first blow.

This was the first mistake.

As he drew back his right hand to deliver the blow, Jin suddenly weaved his head enough to avoid the massive fist, and delivered a quick swipe to the gut, causing the droid to stagger backwards. Dazed, at least in android terms, Black Jack spun himself around and reacted with another punch.

That was the second mistake.

Seeing another opportunity, Jin followed up his initial attack with a left uppercut which landed solidly to the droid's jaw.

_CLANK!_

Struggling to remain upright, Jack planted his feet to the ground and stood squarely to his opponent, intending to immediately counter whatever the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO intended to throw at him.

That was the third mistake.

In planting himself upright, Jack also left himself open for a brief moment. That brief moment, however, might as well be a brief hour, as Jin seized that opportunity to throw a quick left jab to the face.

"Hiyah!"

Jack's servos whined from the blow, but it didn't end there as Jin followed up with a solid right punch.

_CRUNCH!_

"Hah!"

After a string of lefts and rights, at the apex of his combination, Jin's feet left the ground as he delivered a pair of scissor-like kicks to send the monster quickly on his back. As the droid quickly got back on his feet, Jin immediately dashed forward and connected with a right hook.

And that was the fourth mistake.

"Smooth," Anna whistled at the display.

_Not exactly_, Nina thought.

Quick to react, Jack managed to roll out of the way just as Jin delivered a quick stomp to the ground.

_Those moves may look strong, but Jin is practically pouring his all into his attacks_, Nina observed. _If he doesn't finish this soon, he'll be in big trouble._

Immediately, Jack snapped his legs back and kicked himself onto his feet in an instant kippup, then delivered a quick swipe with his left. Feeling sluggish, Jin raised his hands to block the blow and felt himself stumble back from impact.

_A little move like that, his speed should've allowed him to avoid the hit altogether_, Nina continued, gritting her teeth. _He's in no condition to face this thing alone._

Both man and machine backed away from each other ever so slightly, reassessing the other intently. The droid, still feeling the effects of the blows, shook his head to clear up the fog in his sight… a rather human-like thing for a machine to do, it seemed. Even weakened, the droid concluded, Mishimas, even those who denounce their blood in spite of what genetics dictate, are still tricky and cannot be underestimated.

He decided on a new approach.

Jack made the first move and swung at Jin with his left fist, which the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO weaved and countered with a solid right. The droid blocked the blow and stumbled back from the impact and wavered his arms, to which Jin followed up with a kick with his right leg.

That was Jin's first mistake.

"Shi – "

That was a mere feint on the android's part, as Jack spun his right arm along the shoulder and delivered a strong uppercut to the chin.

"Oof!"

Jin grimaced in pain as he felt himself lifted in the air from the impact. Unfortunately for him, the pain didn't end there as the mammoth droid followed his initial attack with a succession of chops with his right hand, connecting squarely first to the head, then to the gut, then to the chest. Not letting up, the droid extended his right leg for a kick to the air, and followed that up with a left jab and a hard right punch that sent the man flying back.

"Argh!"

Miraculously, Jin managed to roll back to his feet, albeit dazed, allowing Jack to prepare his next attack. His right fist whirred and spun on his wrist like a massive drill as the droid pulled his arm back and charged towards his opponent, his arm snapped forward to full extension.

"Hah!" he grunted, as Jin somehow managed to catch the android's right fist with both hands against his face. Jin held the giant fist with gritted teeth, the strain of the block the equivalent of catching a speeding car… with corkscrews.

_Damn!_

Noting Jin's weakened condition, the android leveraged his weight to his right, and slowly forced his hand on the King of Iron Fist champion in an attempt to crush him on the concrete ground.

"Yearrgh!" Jin screamed in defiance, though he felt his knees slowly buckle from the pressure as the hand is now pressed right against his face. In a few more seconds, Jin would be mere mush on hot pavement.

As Jack continued to apply the pressure on his weakened opponent, Jin through sheer willpower did all he could to resist the android's death grip. Despite all his efforts, however, Jin felt his strength waver even further, his knees pressed to the ground below, and his consciousness slowly begin to fade…

* * *

Hanako Yamada.

That's what everyone called her.

In another lifetime, she had a different name; what that name was, it was long forgotten. She also remembered other things, like the putrid odor of dirt and grime in an alleyway, or the nearly unbearable stench of raw sewage gushing to the ground. Some would call it disgusting, but she called it home, and the chanting of her name from the adoring audience, whatever name that was, more than compensated for the filthiness…

"Dr. Romov, we have a problem!"

There were other memories she could recall. There was the rush she felt from the sight of blood gushing, the adrenaline pumping from the sounds of bones crunching, or the thrill of victory after delivering the coup de grâce…

"What's going on?"

She even remembered other little details, such as that silver chained necklace she wore, or the fact she had bright blue eyes.

Eyes of an angel, blood of a beast…

"Brain waves are getting erratic, this time more than usual!"

How did all that change? All the noise and stench were replaced by pure sterility…

"How much longer till the fusion is complete?"

"We are up to ninety percent, but at this rate, I don't know if Hanako can take it!"

No sounds, no smells…

"We need the fusion at ninety three percent."

No more waters from broken pipes, no more crowds chanting, no more dirt or dust, no more spotlight of an arena…

"I know that, Doctor, but right now, she is – "

"Ninety three percent. I want no less than that."

No more thrills or excitement… all she ever seems to do these days is lie in this bed, unmoving, not even to lift a finger, nothing.

Nothing, save for the sudden convulsions that seem to emanate from her body.

"She'll be a vegetable if we keep this up!"

"I said ninety three percent."

"But – "

Not very exciting to say the least.

"You place that seal, I will have your head on a platter and personally delivered to the master. Do I make myself clear?"

Her bright blue eyes were replaced with a pair of golden orbs… strikingly beautiful, yet devilish gold orbs…

"Well?"

A dark brand on the right arm to replace the silver chain around her neck…

"Y-yes, Dr. Romov. Continuing the procedure…"

It was too bad that she couldn't admire these new features, as the rush of intense pain coursed through her head.

* * *

_What just happened?_

Moments ago, Jin felt the life literally crushed from under him, the next moment he was flat on his back exhausted yet alive.

"Consider us even," Nina said, standing between the droid and her employer. As the blonde assassin spoke, the younger Williams stood with her sister side by side, albeit reluctantly, and stepped into her fighting stance.

The droid had a few colorful words (thanks partially to Jane's programming, no doubt) for himself as he had momentarily forgot about the Williams sisters while busy trying to crush Jin under his hand. It was enough for Nina to break off the hold with a kick to the hand and, with great effort, whipped the massive droid off of Jin towards her waiting sister's arms. Anna, in turn, caught Black Jack by the arm and used the droid's forward momentum to bring it to the ground before flipping away towards her elder sister's direction.

That was Jack's fifth mistake.

Jack grew tired of making mistakes…

"So, what next?" Anna asked.

"Try not to get hit," Nina answered.

"Brilliant," Anna rolled her eyes. "I would never have thought of that."

Scrutinizing the android, Nina inched slowly towards Jack, eyes narrowed like a cat to its prey. A quick glance at her peripheral, the elder Williams made a gesture with her head to Anna, then darted towards her opponent.

"Yah!"

As she prepared to meet the droid head on, the one thing Nina realized before she made her move was that a blind charge in this counter would be a bad idea.

"Hah!" Nina yelled as she greeted Jack with a pair of chops aimed for the head.

For one thing, Jack outmuscled the blonde assassin by a huge margin as was obvious by the display of strength demonstrated moments ago on Jin. That, and the ease at which he pulverized the mortar behind her as she ducked to avoid his fist.

"Yah!" Nina yelled out once more, as she quickly sidestepped the droid to avoid a quick yet massive swipe, and, snapping her left leg, delivered a quick succession of kicks to the side.

_CLANK! CLANK!_

For another, this version of Jack was excruciatingly durable, as Nina just learned the hard way.

"Ow," Nina winced, her foot throbbing with pain.

To her credit Nina did manage to cause the droid to stumble slightly from her kicks despite having them blocked, which she followed up with a snap of her heel to the knee. This was enough to cause Jack to stagger from the blow, putting him momentarily off balance, then immediately followed up with a roundhouse to the head.

Nina couldn't help but let out a satisfied smirk, albeit with a slight hint of numbness. She may not possess any sort of voodoo genes or royal blood in her veins, but the blonde assassin took pride in the fact that she was still a force to be reckoned with, man, robot, beast, or otherwise.

"Any time now," Nina snarled through clenched teeth.

Not to be outdone, Anna seized Jack's moment of weakness to land a few blows of her own. She targeted the android's jaw with an upward thrust of her right palm, knocking the droid back with a resounding clank. Stunned, Jack barely managed to register as the younger Williams followed her initial attack with successive lefts and rights, followed by a leaping scissors kick to the face.

"Hah!"

Landing gracefully on her left foot, Anna retracted her right leg and snapped it back to full extension, kicking the android at his midsection.

"Yah – oh, no," Anna gasped, as Jack caught the brunette's foot with his right hand.

Before she could react, Anna suddenly felt her stomach lurch as her body went airborne, momentarily catching a glimpse of Nina targeting the android with a flying kick. Jack, fully aware of the elder Williams, weaved his head back, and allowed the woman to sail past him, the limb mere inches from hitting his face. With her back now towards the android, Jack quickly darted towards her and, holding both arms apart, immediately snapped them closed into a clap.

Meanwhile, watching the events unfolding before his eyes, Jin managed to recover just enough to get back on his feet. To say he was feeling upset was a big understatement. He had to admit, this new Jack model was particularly tough to be able to fend off Jin's attacks, depleted or otherwise, as well as fight the Williams sisters all on its own as demonstrated by the battered bodies of the two siblings after both came crashing to the ground with a dull thud. Still, a small sense of pride that he never knew existed shattered the moment the android pummeled him to the ground.

"Ugh!" Nina cried out, as Jack spun one of his arms along his shoulder and unleashed a massive uppercut.

And now, Nina and Anna are in trouble...

"Ah!" Anna yelped, her insides feeling like pulp as Jack clasped both fists together and connected with an upward swing of his arms.

****!

Jin watched almost helplessly as Anna laid on her back gasping for air, while Nina crawled on her fours, blood trickling from her mouth. Both sisters managed to struggle back on their feet, though given their condition, it won't be long before Jack beats them to submission.

_Damn it!_

Cradling his right arm, his eyes zeroed in on the android, whose attention was now on the beaten sisters, and, with a burst of lightning coursing through his body, made a dash towards Jack…

* * *

Hanako Yamada.

That's what everyone called her.

In another lifetime, he had a different name; what that name was, it was long forgotten.

"Fusion rate at ninety one percent!"

"Uh, Doctor – "

"Yes, I know."

She remembered certain things… the golden sun greeting her every morning with its warmth…

"Brain waves are erratic!"

"She's going into cardiac arrest!"

"Don't stop. Keep the fusion going."

The canvas and paintings in his apartment… the screams of her opponents as she felt the bones crunch between her hands…

"Ninety two percent!"

The abuse she suffered from some man whom she believed to be her father… the smell of smoke and gasoline as he drove his car through the highway…

"We're losing her!"

"Patience, folks, patience."

"Patience my effin' arse, Romov! We're killing her!"

The pleasant smell of blossoms wafting through her nostrils… the scent of blood pouring from every orifice…

And the flashes…

And the convulsions…

And the pain…

And the torment…

"Just keep her steady."

* * *

And the fear… and the abuse… and…

Jin felt a sense of panic unlike anything he ever felt in his life, and he had no idea where it was coming from. One moment, he was ready to leap into the fray, the next moment he felt himself standing frozen stiff.

A chill ran uncomfortably down his spine as droplets of sweat began to cover his face. His vision began to blur, his tongue dried, his balance wavered…

* * *

Hanako Yamada.

That's what everyone called her…

_Hanako Yamada._

In another lifetime, she had a different name… her name…

She remembered some things…

* * *

Jin clutched his head as he felt his mind spiral out of control. He staggered clumsily on his feet, barely able to maintain any semblance of balance…

* * *

_Hanako Yamada…_

Things such as… the warmth of a sandy beach…

"Heartbeat is getting worse!"

_Hanako… Yamada…_

The bright, cheerful laughter of her mother… her warm embrace…

"Just a little longer."

_Hanako…_

* * *

_No… No… No… No…_

The scorching heat of flames…

* * *

_Yamada…_

The pale moonlight against the tapestry of stars…

"Come on, come on, come on…"

* * *

_No… No… No… No…_

The mad silhouette of the beast that took his mother…

* * *

_Ha… na… ko…_

And the feelings of helplessness… fear… as she watched her get taken away…

"Seals are still holding!"

_No… No… No… No…_

* * *

"No-no-no-no," Jin shut his eyes tight, unable to drown out the sudden flood of memories and old wounds.

And at that moment…

* * *

Hanako didn't care…

"Come on, come on, come on…"

* * *

All Jin wanted to do…

* * *

All Hanako wanted to do…

"Ninety three percent!"

"Shut down fusion and apply the seals."

* * *

…all they wanted to do… was scream!


	4. Stage 3

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 3_

Dr. Kalina Romov rubbed her temples and surveyed the damage.

Power was still functional as evidenced by the blinking overhead lights, the flashing red klaxons and the loud blaring alarm, though everything else in the laboratory, including the stasis pod that once housed Hanako, was practically destroyed.

"That was rather unexpected," she murmured to herself. She made her way over to one of the unconscious scientists, not bothering to brush away the dust on her lab coat along the way. Kalina knelt down on one knee, and placed her hand on his pulse, then examined the rest of the scientists in the demolished lab. At least no one was seriously injured, not her lab technicians anyways.

Outside the laboratory, however, there were no guarantees.

Examining the damage, trying to piece together what just happened moments ago, her thoughts were momentarily interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing through the halls.

"Ah, took you people long enough," she mused.

Those people, Soleil's private security force, stormed into the laboratory with guns cocked, and immediately began helping the wounded while surveying the wreckage. After the officers examined Kalina herself for any injuries, the officers then began a round of questions, questions which Kalina found to be rather annoying. Nevertheless, the scientist answered their questions with her usual, calm, even demeanor, seemingly devoid of any emotion whatsoever. It won't be long, however, that news of this setback (a word, Kalina reasoned, that sounded far less negative than 'disaster') would reach the ears of Kyuuto Ishida, which would eventually lead to the master himself. Sooner or later, she would have to answer to them, and that was one meeting that would be anything but pleasant.

After the officer finished with his questioning, Kalina walked over to the damaged stasis pod. Brushing back a lock of her hair, the scientist gently reached out into the broken glass, swept away the debris, and pulled out a metal fragment from within. Running the piece between her thumb and index finger, the scientist examined the object closely, her eyes trailing along an inscription forged on the exterior.

"Curious," she wondered aloud.

She reached into the stasis pod once more and grabbed another fragment from within. The scientist examined the piece as before, and looked at the two objects in her hand.

"The collar was destroyed, yet the bind is still active," she said to herself.

Dropping the shattered fragments back into the pod, the scientist walked over to the side of the stasis pod, leaned over and crooked her head slightly. Rubbing some of the dirt off the surface, more inscriptions appeared underneath.

"Interesting," she thought aloud again.

With an air of calm, Kalina took a step back and straightened herself. She brushed her chin with her right hand in fascination, perhaps a little too much given her current predicament.

_Hanako, Hanako, even now you find ways to amuse me._

The scientist began a slow pace around the stasis pod, her eyes still fixated at the containment's demise while completely ignoring the rest of her surroundings. Her mind began to race, scrutinizing details in her head, crunching data as presented before her, extrapolating information and formulating theories and hypothesis, all in a matter of seconds.

"Containment seemed fine… neither seals on the collar or pod were tampered in any way… nothing should have allowed her to escape… the containment should have rendered you immobile, so what could have possibly gotten you so excited?"

Her mind ruminated over the different possibilities, and then, "There couldn't have been a breach, unless…"

A rare smile slowly formed on her face.

_An external source perhaps?_

Her mind turned on that possibility, further scrutinizing the theory in her mind over and over.

"Dr. Romov," one of the officers called out, shaking the scientist out her thoughts. "The master wishes to speak to you."

"Of course," she nodded. "Give me a moment," she added, and waved the officer dismissively.

As the security officers began to quarantine the area, Kalina looked back at the lab's surroundings, then back at the stasis pod. The possibility of a breach was as crystal clear as water, which left only one other question…

"Who set you free?"

* * *

"You are far more trouble than you are worth."

Those were the first words to greet Jin's ears as he slowly regained consciousness. The King of Iron Fist champion grumbled some choice words as he rubbed the grogginess from his eyes.

"Where are we?" he croaked.

"At the dump we call home," Kazuya answered matter of fact.

"How long was I out?"

"Four hours, give or take."

_Four hours?_

"What happened?"

"What happened, boy, was that I had to save not just your sorry life once more, but also bring those two 'ladies' with us."

Jin glared at his father with gritted teeth.

"Where were you before when we had to fight that android?"

"Where were _you_ while I was doing the majority of the work before, boy?"

No comment.

Jin awkwardly pushed himself up from the dusted mat Kazuya arranged for a 'bed' and winced with a slight tinge of pain in the back of his head. Pain, he recalled, after his father unceremoniously stomped him from behind.

As if reading his son's mind, Kazuya curled his lips to a sinister smile. "That, little runt, was for your own good."

Jin glared at his father with a snarl.

"Do you remember what happened, or rather, what nearly happened before you passed out?"

The former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO was taken aback by the question. One moment, during his encounter with the android, Jack, Jin was perfectly sound of mind save for the bruises to both body and ego alike. The next moment, somehow, some way, he felt himself lose control, not unlike the blind rage he felt when his devil half violently took over, only this one was magnified a hundred fold. If Kazuya didn't arrive to stop him…

He most definitely remembered; the look of Jin's face was all Kazuya needed to know. Kazuya's smile only broadened as he took mild pleasure at his son's discomfort.

"Damn you, Kazuya…"

"You're welcome."

* * *

"How is he?" a bruised and banged up Nina asked as Kazuya walked into the kitchen. The former G Corporation CEO remained stoic, though the assassin could swear she saw a hint of… sadistic satisfaction in his cold blooded eyes.

"He'll live."

"Well that's comforting to know…"

"Long enough to cash in your pay."

"Will you people stop _saying_ that!" Nina exclaimed.

"Ha!" cried out a voice from nearby. Though still grimacing from the wounds Jack had inflicted only hours ago, Anna walked over to the kitchen triumphantly with an accusatory finger pointed towards her sister. "What did I tell you? Even he thinks you're a money grubbing psycho *****!"

Nina narrowed her now venomous eyes at her sister, using every ounce of willpower in her body to keep herself from snapping that index finger in two.

"Ahem!" Nina coughed. Anna froze in her tracks as she felt her moment of triumph start to wane as the assassin stared at the brunette with the most innocent smile she could muster.

"From the creators who brought you 'Sleazy Sister in a Trashy Hotel 1995, Wet and Wild Edition'," Nina declared in mock proclamation while waving an old Polaroid of a shocked, naked Anna caught coming out of a shower with arms covering her chest, "Comes 'Sleazy Sister in a Trashy Hotel 2017, Psycho Slut Edition'!"

"What!"

With a wave of the arms and a little slight of hand, Nina snapped her fingers and pulled out another photograph from her sleeve.

"That's right, folks! 'Sleazy Sister in a Trashy Hotel 2015, Psycho Slut Edition', starring everyone's favorite two dollar whore, Anna Williams!"

"How – where – wha – when did you – "

"See our favorite minx like you've never seen before; upside down, inside out, forwards and back, side to side, with people you'd never thought you'd see on camera, and in inhuman positions nobody ever wanted to know – seriously, how did you manage to do _that_? That's the most disgusting, unholy display of sleaze I've ever laid eyes on, and they're still burning like hell!"

"Give that back!"

"You put the minxes, whores, and sluts to shame!"

"Give that back!"

"Don't you have any dignity!"

"I said give that back!"

"How much to take those photos off your hands?" Kazuya suddenly interrupted.

"Uh, twenty five cents," Nina replied.

"Twenty five cents?"

"What!" Anna's jaw dropped in exasperation.

"For you, I can negotiate a deal, a complete set for, say, ten cents?"

"American?"

"Yes."

"Hey!" Anna snapped.

"Too much."

"Cheap bastard. Nine cents?"

"Three cents."

"Eight cents?"

"Four cents."

"Five cents, final offer. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Done!" Nina gleefully handed the photos to Kazuya in exchange for the nickel.

"Kazuya, how could you!"

"Will you people just _shut up_!" Everyone in the kitchen stopped, as Jin's voice rang from across the room. In that one brief moment of silence, Kazuya in nonchalant fashion walked past the two sisters towards the back door.

"Kazuya…" Anna pleaded. Without a word, the former champion of the King of Iron Fist handed over the photos, and left. With a sigh of relief, Anna shredded the photographs like a woman possessed and tossed the scraps to the dingy floor.

"Uh… just so you know," Nina cleared her throat. "I have copies."

* * *

Rid of the distractions, if only for a few precious minutes, Kazuya laid on the hood of a beaten convertible, watching the orange sunset over the horizon.

Reminiscing the past had become a dangerous past time as of late. It was a distraction to his personal mission, he concluded, one that opened many old wounds, created brand new ones, and left a scar far greater than the massive physical mark across his chest.

It festered, it bled, it dug straight to the heart, poured him out like a jug, broke him to pieces, along with many other metaphors and similes which Kazuya was too tired to think of.

And yet…

Kazuya rubbed his eyes with his forearm, and, with fist clenched, held out his right arm to the sky. Dangling from his fist, a small, delicate object peaked out curiously from just beneath his thumb. Slowly, he began to loosen his fingers save for the index finger and thumb, allowing the object to flutter out of his hand.

His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the object like a scientist studying a lab rat.

As far as he recalled, that piece of silk was supposed to be a scarf, or at least what was left of it; the edges of the cloth were burnt and charred black, reducing said scarf to the size of a small napkin large enough to fit in the palm of his hand. The rest of the cloth was as white as the flakes of snow, decorated with a dazzling display of embroidery. Most distinctive pattern on the silk was a small, innocent bird with wings outstretched gracefully woven to the fabric.

A white dove… the symbol of endearment.

_Damn it!_

Kazuya clenched the silk in his fist and dropped his arm to the side. His brow furrowed as he fixed his now hardened gaze towards the remaining sunset. The expression alone was enough to set off ten supernovas.

_What is wrong with me!_

It has been over twenty years since he felt this way. Since he had lost the title of King of Iron Fist to Heihachi so long ago, Kazuya resolved to himself to never feel such emotion again. He buried those emotions deep in his heart, never to see the light of day again, and forged a new path towards absolute power and immortality. Since having his body excavated by G Corporation from the very volcano Heihachi tossed him in, Kazuya allowed his body to be studied, probed, dissected, all for the sake of controlling the Devil within his soul.

All to keep his mind from remembering her…

_Damn you, damn you, damn you!_

Kazuya covered his face in disgust. Twenty plus years of burying those emotions, all of it unraveled by a single piece of cloth…

_Of all times, why now!_ he thought.

And now, with no other recourse, the former G Corporation CEO did something that he'd never thought he'd ever do, something that he already started to regret ever considering. To save his enemy from the brink of death and forge a (shaky) alliance with the very thing he hated the most, he might as well watch his soul burn for all eternity.

At least that alternative would be less painful.

Reminiscing had indeed become a very dangerous past time as of late. It brings about long term pain, yet is more addictive than drugs. Yes, he had officially gone insane, and now needed to be thrown in an asylum.

_Sentiment will one day be your undoing_, a memory rang from the distant past.

Kazuya let out an audible growl from his lips.

_Sentiment my ******* ***!_

* * *

_Weren't they supposed to be seriously injured?_

That was the question Jin repeated over and over in his mind as he listened to the Williams sisters bicker for the billionth time. He barely made out pieces of their current argument, something to do with psychos and prostitutes and heartless female dogs along with a guy named Mick or Mike or Joe or something and… two dollars. No, scratch that… twenty five cents.

"Where are they!"

"Nope, not listening, not listening."

Apparently they weren't as badly hurt as he thought they were…

"I said where are they, *****!"

"La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la (not listening) la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la – "

"Give them to me or I'll kill you!"

"You say something? La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la – "

Odd, because Jin swore he saw them cough up blood a few hours ago…

"That's it, you're dead, *****!"

"You better not lay a finger on me, who knows what germs you got from doing – ugh, whatever that was you did – ow!"

"Die!"

_CRASH!_

"Let go of me!"

"Die!"

"Ladies?"

"What!" both sisters cried out. Before either could protest again, Jin grabbed the women by the collar on each hand, and tossed them roughly to a couple of chairs.

"Shut… up!" Jin yelled.

Both sisters became silent.

"Where did Kazuya go?"

"Out in the back," Anna replied.

"Fine, I'm leaving at the front," Jin grunted.

"Wait," Nina began to protest. "Are you sure you should be going out there alone in your current – "

Ignoring the blonde assassin, he quickly grabbed his heavy jacket and headed to the front of the house.

"Jin, wait, Jin… Jin!"

With a flick of the wrist, he flung the door open, exited, and slammed it shut, leaving the two sisters alone. Nina shook her head and sighed with resignation, while Anna looked on with fascination.

"What's eating him?" Anna asked. Nina merely shrugged at the question.

* * *

Jin pulled the hood over his head to conceal his face as he walked along the neighborhood.

After the events of the past few days, the former president and CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu wanted some privacy away from the madness.

"How did things end up like this?" he wondered aloud.

In fact, he wondered further, why was he still alive? This was the one question that nagged him since his father found his then comatose body and dragged him into this mess. In fact, this has become a running gag in his brief yet eventful period which he called life as he reflected upon his past.

He could scarcely remember the last time he felt any kind of joy. For most of his adult life, Jin was obsessed with nothing more than revenge. Revenge against Heihachi who betrayed his trust and had him executed on the spot. Revenge against Kazuya for obsessing over power while practically abandoning him all his life. Revenge even against his own Mishima and Devil blood for cursing his life in the first place.

The only time he ever felt true happiness was during his childhood, the most innocent time of his life. Life was much simpler back then. No constant paper work from convoluted business transactions, no constant disturbances from ringtones vying for attention, no exhaustive life in the fast track as people would call it… no concrete, no wires, no machinery, no highways, no bombs, no explosions, nothing. Just the serene melody of nature itself, bristling with life with its greenery and the harmonies of creatures great and small.

And her…

She was the first person to greet him the moment he was born. From the time he was a mere babe in her arms to the day he nearly reached the threshold of manhood, she was there with him at every moment. Jin learned everything from her about life, to appreciate the wonders that nature had to offer. She even taught him hand to hand combat in order to defend himself. Indeed, Jin remembered fondly, despite her diminutive stature, she was strong in every sense of the word, both physically and in will, and yet she was very gentle at the same time. She was a free spirit with a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts.

She wasn't someone who merely gave him life. She _was_ his life. There wasn't a day that didn't go by that Jin would think about her. She was constantly in his mind, consumed in the memories of her, filling his soul with longing and sadness.

And vengeance…

Vengeance against the Ogre for taking her away…

The day he met the Ogre during the third King of Iron Fist Tournament was the day he exacted his vengeance, though he remembered very little of what happened save for the blind rage he felt welled up in his heart. It all happened so quickly; one moment he was face to face with the beast, the next moment, the beast fell by his power.

And then…

_Damn it!_

Jin rested against a wall of a small store and watched as a mother held her son's hand while walking across the street. A slight tinge of envy tugged at him.

_I can't believe I'm getting jealous over a child._

He shook that thought out of his head, and unconsciously began rubbing his aching neck. In spite of the blows he took from Jack, Jin felt his body recover from his wounds along with his strength. The former CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu wasn't quite sure whether to be grateful or ungrateful for his heritage for being born with such tough skin. For the moment, he chose to be cautiously thankful.

Stretching the kinks from his shoulders, Jin casually watched as a couple of giggling children ran by with their parents chasing them down, warning them to be careful while neither sibling gave a care for the world. Jin sighed and shook his head.

_What is wrong with me?_

Jin suddenly let out a gasp as he felt a sharp pain in his head.

_No, really, what is wrong with me?_

Clutching his head, he fumbled along the wall and staggered into the dark in an attempt to hide himself from public view. The last thing he needed was to make a huge scene.

* * *

Hanako had no idea how far she ran. All she knew was that it wasn't far enough.

It was four hours since she escaped from that abominable place, though it could have been four minutes for all she cared. The memory of being caged like a beast in the dark while constantly experimented on was terrible enough as it was. To be unable to move, not even to flinch, let alone retaliate, allowing them to violate her in any conceivable way, it was more than she could ever bear.

And so, she continued to run, run as far as her legs could take her.

_Here!_

Hanako made a sharp turn to her right and darted through a gate.

_Jump!_

Hanako turned to her left and leapt over a rusted fence.

_Halt!_

She quickly laid low and out of sight as two people walked by. Once the coast was clear, Hanako immediately got back on her feet and bolted. Darting between buildings, keeping her steps light yet brisk, Hanako ambled her way through the darkness straight towards a set of rungs.

_Up!_

Quickly, she leapt onto the rungs and climbed up the side of the building until she reached the top. With an extra spring to her step, Hanako lifted herself off the rung into the air, and landed several feet to the middle of the roof kneeling on one knee.

_Go!_

Gritting her teeth, Hanako continued her mad sprint on the roof, weaving through pipelines, generators, and other objects while picking up speed. Faster and faster she ran, her fear outweighed the frigid air against her bare skin, the aches of her legs, or the numbness of her feet. Faster and faster she ran, until she reached the edge of the roof.

_Jump!_

With a loud grunt, Hanako planted her feet along the edge and launched into the air with all her might as if her life depended on it. Given the distance between the next rooftop over (which was a rather wide gap to say the least), plus the fact she was at least ten stories from the ground, her life truly did depend on a successful jump. The repercussions of failure were too great to think otherwise.

"Ha!"

Miraculously, Hanako managed to not only traverse the gap in that single bound, she did so landing on her feet.

_Move!_

Baring her teeth like a wolf, Hanako continued her mad sprint across the rooftop. Reaching the edge of the building, she made yet another impossibly wide leap over the gap high above the streets below.

"Ha!"

And just like before, she landed on the rooftop of yet another building on her feet. And again, without skipping a beat, Hanako dashed across the high rise, weaving through the obstacles until she reached the other side of the roof.

_Faster!_

That pattern continued for several blocks without fail. Run, dodge, run, leap, land, run, weave, run, leap, land, run, and so on and so forth. It didn't matter that her throat felt like sand paper from the lack of moisture, or the legs practically lost all feeling from the lack of rest…

"Ugh…"

…or the sudden wave of dizziness that came crashing to her head…

"Ah!"

Hanako clutched at her head with her hand, covering her right eye while struggling to keep herself focused. Her movements became erratic as her balance started to give.

_Run!_

Shaking her head, Hanako continued to fix her eyes towards the other end of the high rise, and accelerated towards the edge. The haze, however, didn't go away. The pain and exhaustion finally started to catch up as she began to stumble on her feet.

_Run!_

Forcing herself to remain upright, Hanako sprung forward in an attempt to regain her momentum. A couple of steps later, she faltered from the dull ache in her head, which soon became a full-fledged migraine. She felt herself waver left and right, unable to maintain her now fading speed.

_Don't stop! Run!_

"Nnnngh!" Hanako, with head lowered, covered her eye with one hand while waving frantically in the air with the other as though pushing a person away.

_I said run!_

"Nngh!"

_Run!_

The voices in her head continued to goad her into running, though all that did was exasperate her pain further. Gasping for air, she kept her body moving forward before stumbling to one knee. Drenched in sweat, she slowly dragged herself over to the ledge while fighting off the intense pain in her head. Struggling, she reached out with one sweaty palm to grab hold of the edge and, flinging the other hand over, pulled herself onto the ledge with considerable effort. With the strain on both her head and body becoming unbearable, Hanako collapsed onto the ledge with one arm dangled over.

_Now jump!_

Eyes squeezed shut, Hanako shook her head frantically at the voices.

_Jump!_

Throat as dry as sandpaper, it was a wonder she managed to let out even a whimper as the voices continued to scream inside her head.

_What are you doing! Jump!_

Hanako covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut in a feeble attempt to shut out the tormenting voices echoing in her head.

_Get up!_

"Ugh!"

_Get up!_

Hanako managed to get up on her hands and knees, albeit fraught with difficulty as her arms and legs wobbled under her own weight. Her arms collapsed from the stress, yet she still managed to keep her knees from buckling while she buried her face on the concrete.

_Stand!_

Through sheer willpower, Hanako dug her nails onto the edge, and hoisted herself back up to her hands and knees. She paused for a moment, inhaling deep gulps of air, then pushed herself onto a kneeling position. The voices in her head kept tormenting her, yet she managed to momentarily tune them out as she awkwardly pushed one leg forward, pressed her hands against the ground, and heaved herself back to a standing position. Sweat drenched her whole body, the frantic effort of pulling herself up left her throat dry, yet the fear of returning to the lab ultimately prevailed.

_Jump!_

With eyes closed, and fists balled, Hanako began to focus her mind on the next leap as bursts of blue energy surrounded her body. She could taste the blood in her mouth, feel the numbness in her hands and feet, yet all that mattered right now was the jump itself. Her eyes suddenly fluttered open, her irises aglow in its unnaturally golden hue. Strength suddenly began to rush into her body like a torrent.

_Jump!_

Lowering her body like a coil about to spring, Hanako waited for the power to gather just a little longer. Then, like an animal, she sprung forward –

…and suddenly felt a rush of searing pain burn in her head.

"Arrrrrrrrrrrgh!" Hanako and the voices screamed in unison.

The leap was strong, yet ultimately fell short as she just missed the edge of the opposite rooftop by mere inches. None of that seemed to matter as she barely registered the pain from her body scraping the side of the wall, nor did she notice the pressure in her stomach as her body tumbled into a freefall…

…and her senses most certainly didn't register the sudden break in her fall as a pair of strong arms caught her in mid air. The feeling of weightlessness was merely a minor discomfort to Hanako's surge of agony, as Jin bounced off the wall, and landed deftly onto the ground. Quickly surveying the surroundings, Jin made a sprint towards a nearby tunnel while cradling the distressed Hanako in his arms.

"This…" he wheezed. "This is far more difficult than it should be."

Indeed, as Hanako writhed in her suffering, Jin fought off the urge to collapse as a similar wave of discomfort wracked his already aching head. It didn't help matters for him as Hanako let out an ear piercing scream.

And to think, Jin had wanted to avoid attention…

Desperate to find shelter, Jin blindly ran to the first door he could find, and kicked it open. Running through the dimly lit space, his now blurred vision barely registered the small pile of garbage blocking his way.

"Ah!" he yelped, as he tripped over the garbage and lost his balance. His body pitched forward and tumbled to the ground head first.

The last thing both of them remembered was pitch darkness.


	5. Stage 4

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 4_

Awkward.

That was the first thing Jin felt when he came to his senses. Awkward for numerous reasons, one of them the result of his face buried between a pair of soft, round –

"Ah!" he bolted up with a start.

Confounding his awkwardness was the view of an unconscious, completely naked woman lying right below him.

_Oh dear…_

Jin immediately pushed himself off the woman and wriggled himself back in a sitting position. Pulling the hood off his head, the former CEO frantically fumbled for the zipper on his jacket. He tore the coat off himself and, trying miserably to look away, gingerly tossed the heavy article of clothing onto the woman, and clumsily backed away. Jin hung his head and let out a deep sigh.

"Mmmm…"

Jin slowly raised his head and nearly choked with embarrassment as the woman unconsciously rolled onto the front, revealing more 'special features'.

_Oh no…_

Fumbling back to the woman on his knees, he gingerly held both the jacket and the woman by the shoulders and feebly rolled her on her back, then clumsily pushed himself away.

"Mmmm…"

Now, the woman pushed the jacket off her upper body with her slender hands, exposing her chest for the world to see. Jin could only gape in shock.

"No… not good, not good," Jin whispered to himself. His face burning a shade of crimson, he quickly crawled back to the woman, gently pried her hand off the jacket with his fingers, and covered up her indignity…

"Mm…"

…only for her other hand to push the jacket off, exposing more to the former CEO than he ever expected. Once again, he pried the other hand with his fingers, making sure he looked away as he did so, and placed the jacket back on top of her…

"Mmm…"

…to which the woman pushed the jacket off completely, revealing every little detail imaginable.

Real awkward.

Jin rubbed his face hard and shuddered.

"Alright," he said to himself out loud. "You're an adult, not a child… it is not like you've never seen these things before… just relax…" Jin took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly through his lips. "Not a big deal, I just need… to…" He then shook the dust off his jacket and approached the sprawling woman, "… get… this… " then gently rolled her to the side, "… under… ugh… her… like… so…" and placed the open jacket flat on its back. The CEO then rolled the woman on top of the jacket, "Alright… and then…" slowly lifted her left arm and slid it through one sleeve, "Almost done, almost done…" then slid the other arm through the other sleeve. Satisfied, he fastened the zipper together and carefully pulled on the slider till the jacket was closed.

_GASP!_

Hanako's eyes opened, and the first thing to greet her was a flabbergasted man on top, and a hand holding a zipper on her chest.

Too awkward.

"Uh… how are you?"

_CRACK!_

Jin reacted to Hanako's right hand a little too late and took most the brunt of the blow to the side of the head. Fighter's reflexes quickly took over and he quickly rolled with the momentum to the side and back on his feet. Hanako in turn rolled away from the man and, with a push of her deceptively strong hand, brought herself upright.

"I guess that means you're fine," Jin muttered, rubbing the ache from the side of his head. With the large jacket covering the woman well below her hips, her dignity had been preserved.

_Kill!_

Now he only had to worry about defending himself.

"Hiyah!"

Jin weaved his head to the left and barely avoided Hanako's strike with her right hand, then dodged to avoid a second strike to the head from her left. Hanako delivered yet a third strike to the head, though instead of retracting her arm the moment Jin dodged, she followed the attack with a backhand swipe. Alertly, Jin ducked under the swipe, and raised his hand to block an incoming punch aimed for his chest.

"You're pretty fast," he grunted approvingly. Hanako rewarded Jin's words or praise with a kick to the stomach.

"Ugh!"

Jin staggered momentarily from the kick yet deftly hopped back just enough to completely avoid Hanako's scissor kicks.

"You're pretty strong, too," he added.

Hanako continued her exchange with a series of lefts and rights, all of them deflected by Jin, who absolutely refused to throw a single attack at his aggressor.

"This – ugh – is ridiculous…"

Pressing forward, Hanako delivered a knee aimed for his gut, which Jin reflexively blocked with his hands, then raised his arms as Hanako snapped her leg into a kick, pushing him further back. Stepping forward, Hanako attacked with two kicks with her left, spun on her foot and extended her right leg into a roundhouse kick. On instinct, Jin blocked the first two kicks with his hands, then swayed his head back and lowered himself to avoid the roundhouse…

…thus Jin learned very quickly that Hanako could indeed kick very high, and the view was way too scenic.

"Ah!" Jin cried out. Hanako, stopping her roundhouse in mid motion, raised her leg into the air, and awarded Jin's accidental peeping with a heel to his shoulder.

_CRUNCH!_

The former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO howled as his left shoulder fell limp from the impact.

_Now's your chance! Finish him!_

With Jin's defenses broken, Hanako lunged at her wounded prey and knocked him onto his back. Jin felt the wind knocked from under him, yet received no reprieve as attacker mounted him and pummeled his face with a series of rights.

_Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!_

The voices in her head continued their chant, demanding blood to be spilled.

_Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill – _

_Wait!_

Hanako gasped and halted her barrage. She panted from exhaustion and lowered her gaze at Jin's now mangled face as blood slowly trickled from her raised knuckles.

"J-Jin?"

The man stirred beneath her and raised his head as far as his neck would allow it.

"H-how… did you know… my name?" Jin croaked.

Taken aback by the question, Hanako slowly lowered her fist and glanced at the still viscous fluid on her hand. She looked at Jin, back to her fist, then back at Jin again. Her lips trembled at the damage she did.

Awkward.

"Uh… if you don't mind," Jin spoke again, and gestured to the woman still mounting him. "Please…"

Too awkward.

"Oh… oh!" she stuttered, and quickly scrambled off the former CEO. "S-s-sorry…"

"Huh?"

"W-what?"

"E-excuse me…" Jin stumbled on his words, barely able to utter a syllable from his sore jaw, as he frantically pushed himself back to a sitting position.

"Wait! Careful!" Hanako scrambled to his side and, carefully avoiding his injured shoulder, sat him up.

"Ow… thank you – ow…"

"You're welcome…"

Awkward silence.

"Sorry…" Hanako repeated her apology. "Sorry for hurting you… like… like…" she hung her head low shamefully.

"Heh… I'm sorry, too."

"What?"

"I kind of deserved that…" he chuckled. "I mean… I… tried… to cover you…" Jin struggled to finish his train of thought.

"Cover?"

"I kind of… peaked… accidentally."

"Peak?" Hanako looked at Jin confused.

"Yeah… uh… peaked… at… you know… accidentally…"

"Cover… peak… accident – " Hanako's jaw dropped as Jin's words finally began to sink in… "Kiyaaaaaaaaaah!" Hanako turned away from the former CEO and hugged herself nervously.

Way… too… awkward…

"I… probably should not have mentioned that…" he sighed.

* * *

Jin rummaged through the boxes strewn about the room for the past five minutes.

"I… I think I found something!" he called out.

He was in luck. The space the two currently occupied was once a small tailor shop, and though the place had since been abandoned, there were still a few articles of clothing left. Pulling some of the clothing out of the box then tossing a few aside, he finally settled on a pair of dark dress pants.

"This should be fine," he said, while handing the trousers over to Hanako.

"No peaking!" she screeched, snatching the pair of pants from his hand.

Not wanting to antagonize the woman any further, he sheepishly stepped away without uttering a single word and turned his back to her.

"No peaking!" she repeated her warning.

"No peaking…" he waved his hand.

Hanako took one watchful glance at Jin to ensure he was not looking. She fidgeted with the pants in her hand, still suspicious of the Iron Fist champion despite having his back towards her. Biting her lower lip, she hastily jumped into her new trousers, keeping her eyes fixated on Jin's back at the same time. A low grumble and a flustered snarl later, Hanako, pulling at the hem of her borrowed jacket, jerked at the trousers a few times till she managed to slide it up to her waist. Fastening the button, and zipping up the fly, she then allowed the jacket to fall back over her hips.

"Y-you can turn around…"

The former CEO straightened himself and winced. His jaw still felt sore, and he dared not move his left shoulder.

"You sure?" Jin asked apprehensively.

"Yes, it's fine… really…"

"I mean, they won't fall off or anything – "

"No, I think – I think they won't – "

"And you won't try to punch me again…"

"No! I… promise… not to punch… or kick you…"

Jin rubbed his jaw with his still functioning right arm, pondering the words 'punch' and 'kick' in his mind.

"Are you certain – "

"Yes!"

"Alright," he relented.

Taking a deep breath, the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO slowly turned himself to face Hanako. He found it rather strange to see her acting timid around him; moments ago, Jin had just been beaten within an inch of his life by that very same woman. He had to admit, he wasn't certain how he ought to feel in this situation, though he took some solace in this ordeal. At least the pants looked to be firm enough to stay around her waist, he thought. He did not wish to receive any further backlash whatsoever.

"So…" Jin broke the silence. "You didn't answer my question."

"Oh?"

"How did you know my name?"

"Oh…" Hanako nervously bit her lip. To tell the truth, even she was unsure how she knew his name other than 'a voice told her'. Actually, there were plenty of things she felt compelled to tell him, yet she couldn't find the courage to put the words to her mouth. Jin sensed the tension in the air and broke the silence once more.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Jin assured her. With those words, Hanako relaxed.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she asked all of a sudden.

Jin paid little attention to Hanako's question. In fact, he was preoccupied with his left arm at the moment, touching the shoulder gingerly at first. He then graduated from touching the shoulder to nudging the shoulder. Then he went from nudging the shoulder to grasping the arm. Then, he went from grasping the arm, to pulling the arm. And then…

_SNAP!_

_POP!_

"Oh my god!" Hanako squealed, covering her mouth as the words came out of her lips.

"Much… much better," Jin groaned. He felt fortunate that the dislocation wasn't as severe as it felt, though the shoulder was still sore. He took a glance towards the stunned woman whose already pale skin was completely drained of color. Jin realized the display must have shocked her, and yet the look on her face was priceless. He struggled to keep himself from laughing.

"Sorry," he grinned. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

Hanako gave the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO an icy glare.

"Idiot," she spat with contempt in her voice.

_You were the one who dislocated my shoulder_, he thought to himself. That still wasn't enough to wipe the grin from his face, but it was at least enough to break out into laughter. Again, he did not wish to receive any further backlash.

"Let me see if I could find you a shirt and some shoes," he changed the subject, and began to ransack another set of boxes.

* * *

Kyuuto was furious to say the least. News of Hanako's escape traveled through the company very quickly, though the middle aged businessman felt like he was the last person to have found out. Agitated, he began to pace in his office.

This wasn't supposed to happen, he thought. He had a schedule. He had a plan. He had success in the palm of his hand and Hanako was the key. Losing Hanako was not part of the plan. With Hanako gone, his dreams of success had begun to fray, and that was unacceptable. To top it all off, the master would eventually want to see him, and that was worse than any hell he could ever conceive. Kyuuto paced faster.

"That… woman…" he muttered to himself. "I knew that damned scientist would be trouble… I knew, just knew it. She is too reckless, unreliable… I don't know what the master saw in her, but I knew she would be trouble."

Kyuuto was thankful that the news of Hanako's disappearance was limited only to the company itself, and even then, only between the few members of the security team, and the handful of leaders in the know. The PR team was quite competent to say the least, fabricating a quick story to keep the public in the dark, something to the extent of a 'mechanical problem' with one of their new equipment or such nonsense, therefore keeping reporters and other unwanted guests from prying into their affairs, allowing the businessman to keep the tournament running on schedule. All that remained was finding Hanako.

_That damned woman…_

The more he thought about it, the more his blood boiled. Tired of the pacing, he sat behind his desk, and poured himself a drink. He lifted the icy glass to his lips and took a sip. The taste of alcohol made him gag.

"Ugh, how do people drink these things?" he grumbled, and slammed the glass down.

"If you hate it so much, why do you drink it?"

Startled out of his wits, he quickly regained composure and straightened himself.

"Dr. Romov," the businessman addressed the scientist coldly. "I thought you were supposed to meet with the master. And don't you know how to knock?"

"My apologies," the scientist said in the usual unreadable manner. "You didn't answer when I knocked, so I simply helped myself in. Also, the master had other priorities to attend to, so he sent me to you while I left him my report."

Kyuuto glared at the woman with disgust, yet decided not to pursue the matter further. There were more important things to discuss, beginning with how his ticket to success managed to slip out of his grasp.

"Tell me what the hell happened down there," he demanded.

Kalina felt a hint of annoyance threaten to creep out. The scientist knew she would have to answer to her superiors one way or another, yet the irritation of having to explain the events of the 'accident' over and over wore on her nerves. She had already written up a detailed report of the account in the simplest of terms she could think of, yet it seems no one bothered to read. Either that, or someone _did_ read it, yet are utter buffoons to comprehend what she wrote. Kalina felt like the only person with any iota of intelligence in the whole company.

"As my report stated," she began. "Not long after we've spoken, we began to conduct the final phase of Hanako's fusion. At that point, she had just completed stage ten of the process, thus was exhausted from the exertion placed on her physically. In spite of all this, we proceeded with the fusion as you had wished."

"To the point," Kyuuto snarled impatiently.

Kalina let out an indignant sigh. The scientist rarely showed any sort of emotion outwardly, though the businessman was too angry to notice himself.

"In short," she continued, "The fusion, despite the difficulties, encountered nothing out of the ordinary."

"And yet Hanako escaped!" the businessman snapped.

"Due to external factors beyond our control," the scientist added calmly.

"How can you be certain that it isn't any of you or your staff's incompetence?"

"The binds around the containment and the collar were still active during the whole process, and so were the wards around the lab itself. All staff had followed protocol as outlined by the master himself. I have outlined all the details in the report itself, but if you still don't trust what was written in the file, the recordings of the incident along with the files of the investigation will verify what I have said."

Kyuuto clenched his fists tightly around his glass. He couldn't decide whether to toss the glass at the scientist, or drown himself in that vile drink.

"All things considering," Kalina mused, "I would consider the experiment itself to be a success."

"A success?" Kyuuto spat. "How exactly is this… disaster… a success?"

Kalina flashed a smile that made the businessman shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"We had set out to create the perfect human, or rather, the perfect _being_," she spoke with an air of pride and, Kyuuto noted, reverence in her voice. "Perfect not just physically or even just mentally… but _spiritually_ as well. A being that harnesses the raw potential of human and, dare I say, demon prowess at its fullest and beyond." The scientist paused to let the words sink in.

"Consider this, Mr. Ishida, Hanako managed to endure virtually all eleven phases of the fusion process. Even a mere 'demon' would have perished from all the power we had infused, and if _that _didn't burn out the host, the binds would have finished it off. That by itself showed endurance beyond the scope of any living, breathing creature that had ever existed. After each phase, we had conducted several tests on Hanako to test out her attributes and all had been positive, yet none of these tests were as conclusive as … her escape."

The businessman's mood went from feeling angry to nauseas. He realized the woman was a nutcase, but listening to Kalina speak made him shudder. Forget calling her a nutcase; no institution would dare detain her.

"The few readouts we've managed to record during the incident, though the data was incomplete, all indicate factors well above and beyond what we had imagined. She broke out of her restraints, she physically tore through the lab while the binds were still active, she easily defeated all of our best security…" the scientist stopped as Kyuuto watched her in eerie silence. Kalina had to admit, she reveled in his discomfort, but decided to cut the conversation short.

"We didn't simply create the perfect 'being'," Kalina finished, "We created a god."

* * *

"Achoo!"

"Are you alright?" Jin asked.

"Yes… I'm alright," Hanako sniffed.

The Iron Fist champion unknowingly smirked at the woman to Hanako's embarrassment and went back to finding a pair of shoes.

"Uh… here you go," Jin tossed a pair of dress shoes at Hanako, which she caught at the snap of her wrist. "Might be a little big, but at least you won't have to walk around bare foot anymore."

Hanako nodded and graciously accepted the piece of footwear. Stepping into the shoes, Hanako indeed found them to be big for her delicate feet, yet snug enough not to fall off. She was impressed with Jin; in a short time, he managed to find some clothes that were suitable for her size, including the loose fitting grey dress shirt.

While the woman walked around in her newfound clothing, Jin offered Hanako a mirror. "Have a look."

Brushing a lock of her hair nervously, she looked back at the mirror and gave the whole wardrobe a full inspection. She smiled at the image, admiring what she sees, then, remembering that Jin was also watching, looked away from the reflection and blushed. Unconsciously, Hanako rubbed at the brand hidden within the sleeve of her upper arm, embarrassed at her behavior.

"Is something the matter?"

"No… no! Nothing is wrong."

"You certain?"

"Yes, I'm certain. The clothes are fine. Thank you."

"Ah. You're welcome."

Another bout of awkward silence. Jin began to run out of things to break these awkward moments.

"Well, now that you're more presentable, let's leave – " he felt a sudden tug on his arm as he turned to the door. "Uh…"

"No…"

"It's morning, and you must be – "

"No!" Hanako grabbed Jin's arm with both hands with a surprising amount of strength. The former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO sensed the panic in the woman's tone, much like he sensed her fear when he caught her in freefall last night. Jin raised his free hand and covered hers in assurance. The woman, however, still didn't settle down.

"We don't have to leave right away…" Jin mumbled under his breath. Her grip seemed to loosen, though she did not fully release her hold on his arm. "We will stay for a while longer, though we will need to move soon if you wish to stay hidden…" The former CEO felt the grip on his arm gradually tighten as he spoke. "But… again, we don't have to leave right away."

Hanako looked at Jin suspiciously at first. Eventually, with a little trepidation, Hanako released her hold on his arm and sulked to the ground. Jin rubbed his arm vigorously as blood flow returned to the heavily muscled limb and sat next to her.

"What is your name?" Jin asked.

Hanako looked up with golden eyes wide open.

"Oh… forgive me!" she squeaked. "I never gave you my name, didn't I?"

Jin gazed into her eyes and smiled at her. As he had already known her name courtesy of Soleil's files, the former CEO and Iron Fist champion merely asked out of courtesy. That, and he hoped to make some conversation while they waited.

"Yamada… Hanako Yamada."

Jin chuckled, and absently rubbed his still aching jaw. "Kazama… Jin Kazama, but you already knew that."

* * *

Five more days. That was what the master of Soleil Inc. had scheduled. That was the number of days he had to find Hanako before the King of Iron Fist Tournament begins. News of the escape had circulated very quickly around the company, though only the few knew of the project itself. In spite of this setback, the master didn't seem too fazed at this turn of events, not even the least bit worried. Within the darkened expanse that is his office, the master reclined on his chair and basked in the blackness.

He held the report in his hand and read the file briefly. He had to give Dr. Romov credit, she was thorough. The master glanced at the page, and zoned in on the line that said 'breach' and 'external interference'.

_External interference…_

The master lazily dropped the report on the desk, and meditated.

_Seems I was a little careless in my precautions… no matter, I still have all the cards in the deck, and plenty of hands to be dealt…_

"Your timing is most impeccable," the master boomed. "I trust our engineers have done an adequate job of repairing the damage."

With his presence discovered, Jack quietly stepped into the dim spotlight and bowed his head. Despite his size, the combat droid was more than capable of stealth, moving around unseen even to the well trained eye. Moving undetected around the master, however, was an entirely different story.

"I must say, the damage you had done in the rural district was rather… reckless. I am still amazed that the casualties were low in spite of the wanton destruction you had caused."

Jack's eyes burned a brighter shade of red at the master's comments.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have sent you to observe Kazuya and Jin given the history you share, and your aggression nearly cost me four contestants. No matter, despite all this, I am willing to give you another chance." The master leaned forward with hands clasped under his chin, and met the android's cold gaze with a chilling glare of his own.

"I have only one requirement of you," the master added. "If you wish to see your dear girl alive, you will complete this task without fail. Is that understood?"

The servos in Jack's neck whirred as his glance moved from the master to the floor. Behind the shadows, the master smiled with satisfaction.

"I have but one task," the master held a photo in his large, perfectly toned hand, and lifted the picture for the android to see. Jack, capable of seeing in the dark, zoomed in on the image and committed the face to his memory backs. He studied the details of the image, discerning each and every little detail, from the stunning pair of golden irises, to the black mark branded on the right arm.

The brand… the mark of a devil… Jack most definitely won't forget it…

"Your target is Hanako Yamada," the master said. "Find her, and bring her to me."


	6. Stage 5

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Interlude_

On the second last day of the previous Iron Fist tournament, approximately one year prior to the present, Jin Kazama, president and CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu and reigning King of Iron Fist, decided to take a slight detour from the penthouse and walked straight towards the lounge.

The world hasn't changed, not even one bit.

Evil and corruption was still rampant. The poor became poorer, and the rich became richer. Princes were treated as slaves, while the fools were exalted like kings. Even the devil's blood continued to course through his veins, sustaining him, breathing life. No matter how many times he had fought, no matter how many demons he had vanquished, evil always seem to prevail.

In spite of all this, Jin continued his quest. He had once again become champion of the Iron Fist, reclaimed the seat of power in this accursed syndicate, and plotted his newest scheme. This particular plan had to be the most elaborate one yet, so elaborate that it crossed the line of sheer madness. Most specifically, he intended to eliminate both the Mishima Zaibatsu and the G Corporation all at once. It was definitely insane, and one that Jin didn't take lightly, especially given the shockwaves he would create from such a bold (and stupid) move. Stupid as it may be, Jin felt it was perhaps the only way to shake up the world. Thus, he plotted, thus he planned.

And now that the plan has come to fruition, it was time for a drink.

Correction, make that several drinks.

Jin could not recall exactly when he developed a taste for alcohol. His first fifteen years was spent in Yakushima with the rest of the wilderness, sheltered from the harshness that was the real world. He never smoked, never did drugs, and most certainly never drank any wine or beer or any such beverage. Something to do with keeping himself pure and to avoid such bad habits or whatever along those lines. Even after he moved to the big city with his grandfather, Heihachi Mishima, he had avoided such fancies despite reaching legal age.

Well, years later, he certainly never bothered with the drugs, but drinking, that was another story. At first, he couldn't stand the bitter taste and couldn't understand why people would drink such vile concoctions. Little by little, however, as he acclimated himself to this 'real life', he gradually accepted the bitterness that came with it. In fact, one could say the bitterness reflected the darkness that is the world. The buzz from a shot of sake was also a nice bonus.

"Mind if I join you?"

Without turning, the Mishima Zaibatsu CEO offered a seat and continued to drown in his misery. Invitation opened, Nina Williams sauntered to the table, her full hips swaying as she made her way to the chair. Adjusting the form fitting purple skirt on her glamorous evening gown, the blonde with the grace that belied her ferocity propped herself onto the seat, and joined her employer with a glass of whiskey on the rocks.

"So it's finally coming down to this," she began, staring lazily at the glass in her hand.

"Mmhm."

"There is no turning back, is there?"

"Mmhm."

"That has to be the dumbest idea I've seen you come up with to date."

Jin looked up from his drink and glanced at the blonde assassin. "Why did you agree to this?"

"I don't know," Nina shrugged, taking a sip from her glass. "I guess I just wanted to see the world burn."

Jin couldn't help but chuckle at the remark, then downed the last drop of sake. He motioned to one of the servers for another while handing the empty glass over.

"I am more curious, though," Nina pondered. "Why do you keep involving me in this?"

"Oh? What do you mean?" Jin asked as the server passed him another glass, which he immediately lifted to his lips for another sip.

"You know my occupation," she clarified. "My job is to take lives, not save them. And while the circumstance of our first meeting was not exactly of my own accord… I did try to kill you once. That, and burying a corporation isn't part of my job description. Nor are vanquishing demons or saving the world."

The CEO took a moment to ponder the question in his head. Truth be told, he had absolutely no idea why he entrusted this murderer with the task of carrying out his plans in the first place. There were plenty of reasons against having Nina even as his personal bodyguard, never mind a confidant for his deepest secrets. And yet, underneath the killer lies a person whom he could sympathize with, one who, in spite of her occupation, understood the concepts of honor and nobility.

Even though it meant adding another dent to his bank book.

"It is a simple matter of having an exemplary track record, especially in these difficult tasks, that I constantly involve you in my plans," was his answer. "Consider this an honor."

Nina let out a scoff, though didn't probe any further. Just as Nina was about to take another sip, Jin raised his half full glass at the assassin.

"A toast?" she asked curiously. "What for?"

Jin looked the assassin in the eye as he chose his words carefully. "To saving the world… and watching it burn."

Nina looked at the CEO with wide eyed surprise, then shook her head and laughed. She raised her whiskey glass and accepted the toast.

"Fine then… to saving the world, and watching it burn." Both CEO and assassin clinked their glasses together and sipped.

* * *

_Stage 5_

Jin sat on the cold, cement floor with his knees bent. He lazily turned his cell phone over and over in his hand, seemingly expecting someone. The phone itself had seen better days, the black casing itself marred with dents and scratches, though still remained functional. Bored with flipping the phone, he rested his elbow on his knees and leaned his head against the phone in his hand.

"You said it was urgent."

Without turning, the former president and CEO motioned to the blonde assassin towards him.

"We've been waiting for you all of last night… well, I was waiting anyways," Nina corrected herself. "Kazuya merely took off in the morning, and that psycho slut did nothing but whine herself to sleep, so you don't need to worry about them prying whatsoever. Now, what is so important that you drag me all the way out in this god forsaken place that should be kept secret from your father and that tramp that's supposed to pass as a sister… Jin, _please_ tell me _that's_ not the reason."

'That' reason Nina referred to laid on the corner curled comfortably in Jin's heavy jacket. The elder Williams pulled off her sunglasses and stood over her employer with hands on her ample hips.

"There's more to this than you see here," Jin replied and stood up. In spite of the fact that Nina herself is a good eight inches shorter and almost sixty pounds lighter, she fixed her contempt at the King of Iron Fist champion.

"Really?" Nina shot back. "Please, enlighten me. How is _that _(whatever it is you did with her) somehow 'more than what I see' other than a complete waste of my time!"

Jin was taken aback by her temper though remained composed. Several words in response to her behavior came to mind, including, "Do remember your place," the typical, "I have no need to explain myself to you," the ever threatening yet effective, "I do not tolerate such insolence," the always popular, "You simply do as I say, or I will cut your pay in half," or even, "Silence! I kill you!" Where that last line came from, he had no idea. He hadn't had any booze since the incident at the bar, and even then, that wasn't much. He did feel the urge to strangle her, though.

"I understand how you feel and I promise to explain everything," were the words that came out of his mouth. "Right now, however, I need to keep Hanako – "

"'Hanako'? The little chickie has a name?"

"Yes, Hanako – I need to keep Hanako hidden. Someone or something was after her, and for whatever reason, I can't let them find her."

The assassin had an incredulous look on her face.

"You make it sound like the world is at stake," she glared in disbelief.

"I don't quite understand all of this, either, but I can't shake this feeling that Hanako will be the key to all this. I will need to find out more, but for now, it is imperative that Hanako be kept hidden."

_The sad part of this conversation is that Jin truly believes the world is in trouble and that little Asian chickie is the key_, Nina thought.

"Do you remember what I said to you before you went all Armageddon on the economy?" Nina sneered. "My job is to take lives, not save them. More importantly, _babysitting_ is not part of my job description!"

"Hmhmhmhmhm…" Jin laughed quietly at the angry Irish woman.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he chuckled. "As bad as your temper may be, you normally don't get this angry with my orders, especially since I've given you far worse things than… 'babysitting'."

"Trust me, I've been pissed at your orders before," she snapped. "I merely held it in."

"For the pay check, I presume?"

"Stop it! I get enough of that crap from that prissy little minx, I certainly don't need this from you!"

Jin looked at the Nina with the most innocent expression he could make. All that did was annoy her even more.

"I'm not ordering you to do this," he said in an attempt to placate her. "I'm asking you as a favor. No, I'm _begging_ you, please trust me on this. I can't hide Hanako alone, and in spite of your profession, there is no other person I can trust with this task than you. Will you please help me?" As he had expected, that managed to piss her off some more. In fact, even he felt annoyed for saying all of that in the first place. However…

"Ugh…"

"Is that a yes or no?"

"You make me sick…"

"So… your answer is…"

Nina took a glance at the sleeping woman on the ground, then looked into her employer's brown eyes.

"I expect a bonus for this," she sighed. "After all, again, babysitting is not part of my job description."

"Of course, Nina."

"And I mean a _big_ bonus, with at least an extra zero or two appended beyond the usual cut I get."

"That can be arranged."

"It better be," she spat, shoving Jin out of her way, and reached over to the sleeping Hanako.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

"Waking sleeping beauty so we can move her."

"Nina, I don't think that's wise…"

"You told me over the phone it was urgent."

"Yes, I did, but…"

"And we've wasted enough time as it is."

"But…"

"If you wish to hide your little chickie, the first logical thing to do is to move her…"

"You don't understand…"

"After all, the more time she spends sleeping in this abysmal place, the more easily she will be found, whoever or whatever that may be."

"Nina, don't do that – Nina… Nina!"

Too late.

"Yearrrrrrrrrrrgh!"

Nina felt a vice-like pressure on her right hand, as Hanako suddenly shot her arm up at her invader and squeezed. Golden eyes met blue as Hanako's grip tightened almost to the point of breaking Nina's bones. Then, with a hiss, Hanako lifted the blonde assassin off her feet and tossed her over her head like a rag doll. Nina crashed hard to the ground and tumbled to her stomach. With Nina's back exposed, Hanako launched herself to the Irish woman and straddled her from behind. With one arm locked under Nina's left armpit and forearm to the throat, Hanako grabbed Nina by the skull with her other arm and pulled in an attempt to wrench Nina's head off her shoulders.

"Hanako!"

With the woman distracted by his voice, Jin was able to pry off Hanako's arms from Nina and, with great effort, pulled her off her back. Freed from the vice-like grip, Nina quickly rolled away and jumped back on her feet. With Jin holding Hanako back, the blonde assassin, still sore from her fight against Jack and her tussle with Anna, hunched low to the ground, half exhausted, half enraged. With arms raised to her face, Nina took a few steps forward to her attacker. At the same time, Hanako struggled to free herself from Jin's grip as her bloodlust grew in the wake of Nina's invasion.

"Nina!" Jin boomed in a commanding voice as he raised an arm to stop the assassin. "Both of you! Enough!"

Upon hearing his voice, both women stopped in their tracks, though still keeping their eyes on each other.

"Hssssssssss!"

_Creepy…_ Nina thought.

"Hanako, calm down! Nina's here to help."

Hanako glowered at the assassin with suspicion, yet relaxed in Jin's grip. Likewise, Nina lowered her arms and straightened herself.

"So chickie knows how to fight," Nina scoffed. "And here I thought it would be boring."

Hanako sniffed the air in Nina's direction and hissed. "You reek of blood," Hanako growled.

Nina in turn took a few whiffs at Hanako's direction and gagged. "You reek of anus," she mocked.

"I don't trust her…" Hanako told Jin, her golden orbs still locked at Nina's blue gems.

"The feeling's mutual," Nina grunted.

"Both of you, quiet!"

Both women diverted their eyes from each other and looked up to the former CEO. Sensing his impatience, Hanako and Nina ceased their hostilities towards each other, at least for the moment, and 'behaved' under his watchful eyes.

"I once thought destroying two of the world's biggest corporations and ******* up the world's economy was a dumb idea," Nina spoke out. "Somehow, though, guarding this little chickie looks to top everything you've ever cooked up. I'm afraid dumb won't even begin to describe it."

* * *

An hour and forty minutes later, the elder Williams walked through the door with a scowl on her face. She held several large bags of clothing on each hand and vehemently tossed them at Hanako's feet. Neither person in the room said a single word for the last few minutes as Hanako changed out of her suit into a new set of wardrobe, though Nina was visibly fuming. Expressionless, Jin casually picked up a paper cup and poured himself some hot tea which Nina also went out of her way to buy, along with some dishes of rice. Nina kept a distance from the other two, furiously drinking her tea while trying her hardest to ignore the other two. Then, as Nina crushed the cup in her hand…

"Did I mention to you I was no babysitter?"

"You had mentioned this on numerous occasions since this morning."

"Did I also mention to you I expect a big fat bonus?"

"With several more digits appended, I believe."

"A bunch of zeroes, yes. Did I also mention as well that this was going to be dumber than your last dumb idea?"

"With absolute clarity, yes."

"Can you answer another question?"

"Certainly."

"Why… me!"

Jin looked at the blonde Irish woman dumbfounded. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't give me that bull!" Nina stomped, close to the verge of shouting. "Keeping an eye on her is one thing. Hell, she nearly broke my arm! Shopping for food or clothes, however, is another. Why… am… I… doing… this… ****!"

"Well, I once told you – "

"And don't give me that same ******** line with the whole 'credentials' thing, because I don't consider it an 'honor' to be her personal maid!"

"I want to know as well," an equally upset Hanako spoke out in a quieter voice as she walked over. No longer in the dress shirt and pants Jin had given her, she was now dressed in a simple, yet more feminine attire consisting of a tight, dark blue tank top with a slight plunging neckline, and form fitting pants that accentuated the woman's figure. A pair of two inch heeled boots enhanced her already perfectly shaped legs.

"Is there something wrong with the outfit?" Jin asked.

Hanako looked at her outfit sheepishly, then glanced at the numerous bags of women's attire strewn on the ground. Studying her current outfit, it was a little more on the slim side than the hastily prepared suit, Hanako realized, yet she at least felt secure in the fact that these particular clothes won't fall off.

"Nothing," she admitted. "Nothing yet so far."

"I'm glad you approve," Nina sneered.

"I should've snapped your neck when I had the chance."

"I should've kicked your bony *** when I had the chance!"

"And I thought your fights with Anna were bad," Jin shook his head with disapproval.

"About the only good thing is that she is slightly more tolerable than that psycho slut!" Nina shook her finger at Hanako. "Only slightly, though."

As the infamous 'Silent Assassin' continued her tirade, her eyes caught a glimpse of Hanako's bare right arm. Before anyone could react, Nina snapped her hand around Hanako's forearm and pulled the woman closer. Still holding the arm firmly, the assassin twisted the woman's arm over with a flick of her wrist to reveal a black 'brand' on the upper arm. Gritting her teeth, the blonde examined the shape of the mark with her thumb, and jerked her head to the former Zaibatsu CEO.

"What the hell is this?" Nina seethed.

The former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO cocked his head to the side to get a better look at the brand. Seeing the mark, Jin was stunned at the sight, though he betrayed no hint of emotion. He wondered to himself why he didn't notice this the first time, especially since Hanako was practically baring herself… actually, from the soreness of his shoulder and aching of his face, he remembered exactly why he didn't notice.

He pushed that thought to the side.

"A scar," Jin replied matter of fact. It wasn't like he had any better explanation to give, aside from the fact that the brand embedded so neatly on her pale white skin looks exactly the same as the scar branded on his left upper arm by the Devil so long ago…

"I wouldn't have guessed," Nina rolled her eyes. "Why does she have the same mark as you!"

Hanako yanked her arm free from the assassin's grip and snarled.

"Don't you growl at me, freak."

"Nina…"

"I want answers!" Nina demanded. "What are you risking your neck for!"

"As I said, I promise to explain everything to you along the way," Jin sighed.

"Start explaining!" Nina snapped. "Now!"

"Uh… Nina…" Jin tilted his head slightly.

"What?"

The King of Iron Fist champion's expression remained solemn, but his eyes betrayed a hint of mischief as he uttered the words, "You sound like a mother."

There was a twitch in Nina's eyebrow while Jin counted the seconds in his head.

Five… four… three… two… one…

"Just because I am over twenty years older than you doesn't make me an old hag!" she shrieked, waving her arms angrily.

"It was merely a random thought – "

"No one asked me to be put in cryogenic suspension all those years – "

"Thus you still look like a woman in her twenties – "

"– and I certainly didn't ask for anyone to… to… argh!"

"You mean the whole issue with… uh… Steve Fox?"

"Don't…" she pointed her finger derisively. "Don't even go there."

Jin raised his hands in mock innocence. All things considering, he felt rather pleased with himself. Now that he got all of that out of his system, he returned to the original topic at hand.

"You wish to know everything?" he asked.

"Especially what the hell she is," Nina made a motion to Hanako, "and why you're risking your neck over her."

With the way the discussion was heading, Hanako felt like digging a hole in the ground and burying herself. Feeling uncomfortable, Hanako slowly backed away from Jin and Nina, and leaned against the wall.

"I'm afraid even I'm not certain," Jin admitted.

"Then tell me what you do know," Nina replied in a gentler tone, then redirected her wrath at Hanako's direction. "That goes for you, too!" she exclaimed.

Hanako completely ignored the assassin's demand. In fact, her attention was no longer at the conversation itself, but rather at something else.

"Well, chickie!"

"Hanako?"

Still ignoring the other two, Hanako's eyes darted side to side, suddenly feeling herself on edge. Gnashing her teeth, the woman slowly crept to one of the windows and took a peek.

_They found us!_

"Hanako, is something wrong?"

The moment she peeked, a look of dread crossed Hanako's face. Sensing her fear, Jin walked next to Hanako and took a peak for himself.

"What is it?" he asked.

"T-they're c-coming…" she stammered.

"I don't see anybody. Who's coming?"

_They're going to take us!_

_We don't want to go back…_

_We won't go back!_

"T-t-them…" Hanako gasped with finger pointed towards the window.

Watching the conversation, Nina regarded the stuttering woman with disbelief.

"Are you kidding me?" Nina fumed, staring at the ceiling with arms waved open.

_We need to hide…_

_We must run!_

_Run! Away from here!_

"No…" Hanako whispered to herself, gripping the window sill tightly.

"I wasn't talking to you, freak!"

_What are you standing here for? Run!_

"I… can't…" Hanako struggled as beads of sweat began to drip from her face. "Don't… want…" she croaked. With palms now wet with perspiration, Hanako nearly slipped and fell while leaning against the sill. "Please… don't…"

Nina watched Hanako's display with a look of wicked satisfaction on her face. "Whoa, easy there, chickie," Nina mocked while 'graciously' offering Hanako her arm for support. Said support involved grabbing Hanako by the shoulders and slapping her on the cheeks while telling her to 'get a grip' for humiliation's sake. In Hanako's current state of mind, the woman neither felt the stings of pain, nor was she in the condition to retaliate. "Maybe you should take a seat, have some tea, maybe clear your mind a bit," Nina continued as she gently yet forcefully yanked her further away from the window and shook her.

"No… please… I can't… I mustn't…"

"Yes, yes you most definitely will."

"Nina… I don't think… you should be doing that…"

"Why not? Woman acts so high and mighty, thinks she can push us – Jin!"

To her shock, Nina found herself rushing to Jin's side as her employer's balance wavered. The Irish woman barely managed to catch him as Jin fell to his knees and was about to tip forward.

"I… I can hear them…" Jin panted, his face displaying and equally pained expression as Hanako's.

"Hear what?" Nina held Jin by the shoulders as she gently laid him on his back. "Stay with me, Jin, stay with me…"

"Voices…" his voice cracked. "Saying… run…"

"I don't understand a ******* word you're saying!"

"They're coming…" Jin let out a gasp.

"Who is…" Nina's eyes made a beeline to Hanako. "What did you do to him, freak!"

_Run! Run! Run! Run! Run! Run! Run! Run! Run! Run!_

Hanako could only let out a whimper as the pressure in her head increased.

_Run! Run! Run! Run! Run! Run! Run! Run! Run! Run!_

"Answer me!"

"Please… don't yell…"

"Jin!" Nina cried out, then covered her mouth. "Sorry…" she added in a hushed tone.

"You must… get her out of here…" Jin spoke through gritted teeth. Even speaking became a chore as he continued to gasp for breath.

"What!" Nina yelled in exasperation. "You are not serious."

"Listen to me…" Jin grabbed the assassin by the side of her head and pulled her face close to his. "I don't know why and I don't know how, but we can't let whoever is after Hanako take her." Jin felt another wave of pain course through his skull, but refused to submit to the effects till he finished what he had to say. "Whatever… whatever you may think… Hanako must remain hidden… or we will all be in trouble…"

"As if we weren't in trouble already," Nina muttered under her breath.

"Kiyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Nina nearly swore under her breath at Hanako's cry, then felt her blood freeze looking back at Jin's face.

"No…" Jin panted. "Not now… not again…" he growled, the words coming out of his mouth suddenly reverberating as he spoke.

Nina listened in horror as his voice changed from the calm, even, and gentle tone to a booming, vicious, demonic cry. Compounding the danger, Nina gaped at the markings that gradually appeared on his forehead in the form of a pair of black symbols surrounding a red 'third eye'.

_Just like before…_

It was only a day ago when Jin was on the verge of morphing into his devil form while battling that android. Last time, however, Kazuya was there to knock his son back to his senses before he completely lost control of his power. This time, though…

"Nina…" Jin begged. "Take Hanako… leave here…"

"But…"

"Don't… let them… or me… get both of you…"

Before Nina could utter a word in protest, an ear piercing screech filled the room, the sheer volume enough to cause the tailor shop to shake. With ears covered, Nina turned to Hanako in time to watch the woman leap through the window, shattering the glass with a resounding 'crash', and leap high into the air with superhuman strength. All the assassin could do was watch dumbfounded while swallow the popping out of her ears.

"This… is _hilarious_…" she murmured. "Honestly, this is the funniest thing I've ever seen, and the day barely even started. How can this day get any better?"

"Nina…"

The elder Williams felt a firm tug on her forearm. "***** in a half…" she swore.

Red lightning coursed through Jin's body as he continued his struggle in vain against his metamorphosis. No longer the usual brown color, his irises burnt a furious gold, while his teeth became pointed and razor sharp. Where there were once white fingernails, they have since grown into sharp, black claws capable of rending through flesh and bone in a single swipe.

"Well," Nina surmised, "Kazuya brought you back by hitting you. Maybe if I gave you one good punch to the – "

She never managed to finish her thought as Nina felt an indescribable force shove her to the wall. Jin let out a tormented wail as his shirt exploded into tatters as large, feathery wings as black as night sprouted and unraveled from his back.

"Son of a…"

More markings started to appear on his chest and around his navel, and a pair of horns formed from the side of his head. In a loud bellow, Devil Jin's transformation was now complete, and with bloodthirsty eyes, his first order of business stood before him with a stunned look in her eyes.

"So much for that idea," she sighed. Rubbing the back of her head, Nina slowly ambled to the side, her eyes still fixed towards her now demon-possessed employer.

"Nina," Devil Jin seethed venomously. His voice echoed like one of a deity.

"I know you told me to run with that chickie of yours," she began. "A couple of problems, though. One, I can't catch up with _that_," she gestured her hands towards the now broken window. "Two, I'm stuck with you."

Devil Jin watched Nina waywardly as she raised her arms to her face and stepped into her fighting stance. An aura of pure malice surrounded him, though the assassin didn't seem too phased at her predicament.

"Just so you know, I'm not leaving you behind," she spoke in a calm voice. "I guess this would be one of those so-called 'blonde' moments, but I'm afraid you're also stuck with me. After all… we're supposed to be partners in this one. I'm… your friend. We've been through a lot these past few years. You know… I watch your back, you watch mine."

Devil Jin let out a low growl.

"Really, we're amigos, comrades, practically stuck to the hip…"

Devil Jin's golden eyes were ablaze with fury.

"OK, and you pay me well… there, I said it!" she snapped. "The contracts you give were well worth it, and the benefits weren't too bad either. But, trust me, that's not the main reason why I stick around! It's… just an added perk."

With predatory eyes, Devil Jin hunched forward with arms dangling like a rabid beast, waiting to make the first lunge.

"I don't want to fight you," Nina continued. Arms still raised, she slowly circled the former CEO, mind and body, in spite of previous injuries, prepared to fight.

With another roar, Devil Jin began to pounce. Hardened experience kicked in as Nina, in spite of her opponent's speed, managed to side step his lunge. Pivoting on her left leg, she lifted her right leg, spun around, and drove her heel into his back, then hopped away from her opponent and kept her distance. Devil Jin's eyes nearly popped out as he felt his body stumble from the impact and crashed to the ground.

"Like I said, I don't want to fight you," Nina repeated. "It doesn't mean I won't break a bone or two."

Like a caged animal, Devil Jin quickly hopped back on his feet and snarled. Hunched over, he turned to face Nina again and let out a monstrous cry.

"Great… pissed him off," she thought.

In a near blink of an eye, Devil Jin quickly closed the gap between the two and wildly swiped at the blonde with his right hand. Nina barely had time to react as she quickly hopped back just before the claws managed to do any real damage beyond a torn front and a slight trickle of blood. The blonde cursed at herself; she much rather liked that shirt.

"Now…" Devil Jin boomed, breathing hard as he spoke. "Feel… the wrath… of god!"

_If I had a couple of yen for every time you said that…_

Devil Jin interrupted her thought as he took another swing at the assassin. Nina deftly dodged the attacks, though finding the lack of space was becoming a bit of a concern. His quickness also meant that openings would be very difficult to find. One thing the blonde assassin that didn't escape Nina was Devil Jin's savagery; even at his most destructive, Jin was never as out of control as he was now. She had to act quick.

"Ha!" Devil Jin leapt and delivered a punch aimed for the face. With quick reflexes, Nina barely escaped the blow, the fist managing to graze her shoulder as she went low. Nina winced as even a mere glance was enough to cause some pain, yet she now found herself with a very rare opportunity to do some damage…

_I apologize for what I'm about to do…_

Seizing the moment, Nina, leaning on the ground, raised her right foot, its trajectory towards what is known as every man's weakness…

_CRUNCH!_

"Raaaaaaaaaawwwrrrrrrrrr – ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…" Devil Jin hopped away awkwardly and doubled over in pain while holding both hands on his crotch.

"I hope that doesn't affect my pay," Nina thought aloud. Her opposition in an extremely vulnerable state, Nina quickly got back on her feet and stepped forward with a right hand thrown upwards to the jaw. Following the initial blow, Nina hopped forward and connected with a sweeping left handed strike. With momentum established, the assassin quickly threw a combination of lefts and rights, followed up with a quick jab of the left hand and, left foot planted on the ground, spun her right leg in a clockwise arc, pressed her offence further with another series of open palmed strikes, and, after pinning Devil Jin to the wall with a flying kick and a further pummeling with another left and right, finished it off with her patented double handed clout. Devil Jin groaned from the exchange and crumpled to the ground.

"I'm truly sorry for that," Nina apologized. "This is for your own good."

Immediately, Nina mounted her demon possessed employer and began pummeling him with her fists.

"Wake up!" she cried out repeatedly, not letting up until Devil Jin reverts back to normal. Her body ached and her hands grew numb, yet her mind remained resolved in spite of her misgivings with her treatment towards the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake – ack!"

The Irish woman felt an invisible force wrap around her throat, ending her attack abruptly.

"T-that's… not… fair…" she croaked, as she felt her body begin to levitate. Devil Jin, glaring savagely, propped himself to a seating position, and, raising his hand in an invisible grip, made a throwing motion towards the other side of the room. At that moment, Nina was flung far across the room and crashed to the wall.

Hobbling back to his feet, Devil Jin wobbled in his balance, covering his forehead with his right talon, and shook off the cobwebs in his head. A light dribble of crimson threatened to drip from his lips, a reminder of the punishment he received, and one that he intends to pay back in full. And then some.

A dazed and still aching Nina dragged her heels in an attempt to right herself as Devil Jin made his slow, deliberate advance. The assassin, gasping of breath, looked at the winged demon directly in the eye as he made another lunge toward her.

"Aww… cluster****…"


	7. Stage 6

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 6_

Kazuya leisurely strolled through the quiet streets of the neighborhood in the morning. For the G-Corporation's final president and CEO, in the past few weeks since he moved to this neck of the neighborhood, morning hikes became more and more of a daily ritual.

It wasn't because he needed the workout; for Kazuya, a walk down the street does as much good as a two pound weight for a bodybuilder trying to bulk up on muscle. Nor was it because of such paltry needs such as 'thinking to himself' or 'clearing his mind', though that was the initial excuse he gave the first time. At any rate, he already did all of that 'thinking' and 'clearing his mind' last night. Walking in the mornings did give him the chance to try out some of his new sneakers from his collection, at least what was left of it anyways (a year ago, Jin inadvertently destroyed the rest of his sneakers, much to his chagrin), though ultimately that wasn't the main reason.

There was a purpose to these new daily routines, especially now with the advent of the next King of Iron Fist Tournament coming up. The biggest reason: Kazuya simply needed to know. It was the sole driving force behind his actions, from the hiring of the Williams sisters to recovering his son's body, the latter still causing the elder Mishima much grief.

Again, it wasn't exactly his first choice.

As he turned on an intersection, a bright glint caught the corner of his eye. That glint came from the sunlight glancing off the body of a silver Mercedes-Benz GL rolling towards his direction. Kazuya waited as the vehicle drove past, then made a U turn and parked on the curb next to the former G-Corporation CEO. Not quite the most luxurious vehicle he had been in, he thought, as he stepped in through the passenger side and sat on its leather seat. In spite of his upbringing, however, Kazuya was never one to care about material wealth or luxury. There were really only three things he considered important: his sneaker collection, world domination, and 'her'. The last item, he would never admit to anyone, of course, not even after a thousand lashes and thrown to the pits of hell would he ever confess such a 'weakness'. At least two of the three items he knew for a fact were within his grasp. He only needed to wait another five days for the week long tournament to begin…

"Good morning, Kazuya," the driver of the SUV said. "I trust you've been well rested."

"Hmph."

Passenger door closed, the driver shifted the vehicle to gear and gently stepped on the accelerator. In mere moments, the Mercedes picked up speed and went straight for the entrance to the freeway. So begins another day of torment.

"What do you have for me this time?"

"Business as usual, huh, Kazuya?" the driver smirked, pulling off his hat and ruffling his short, blue locks. "I'll start with this one." The blue haired driver handed a shopping bag to the now curious Kazuya, who in turn pulled out a plain box and opened its lid.

"Hmm…"

"I figured it would break the ice," the driver smiled cheerfully and winked. "What do you think? Is it worthy of attention?"

Kazuya pulled the sneakers from the shoebox and gave the footwear a thorough examination. Not quite what he had expected, though he wasn't going to complain. Perhaps he might have all three things he wanted before the tournament is done. He placed the sneakers back into the box and folded his hands over the box on his lap.

"Anything else?"

"Never satisfied…"

Stepping on the accelerator, the Mercedes sped along the freeway towards the downtown core of the city, passing between cars along the way.

"Where are we heading to this time, Takeda?" Kazuya grumbled, though his expression remained as stoic as ever.

"Uh, some cheap restaurant or something," the driver named Takeda replied thoughtfully. "Truth be told, I don't exactly remember the name, though they say they serve some good eggs."

"You are wasting my time."

"Patience, my friend," the driver replied. "You say that every time you step into my vehicle."

"You constantly bore me with your attempt at conversation," Kazuya pointed out. "You constantly have me wait in some random location for the information I want."

"And, again, we still have to meet up with my partner before we can begin." Takeda wore a devilish smile the moment he mentioned the word, 'partner'. "Plus I'm hungry, and I'm sure you are as well. Besides, have I ever steered you wrong?" Takeda winked, which garnered no reaction from his passenger. The blue haired driver shrugged, and silently drove further into the city.

* * *

"Well?" Kazuya asked impatiently.

"Mmm, these eggs are even better than I thought," Takeda replied between mouthfuls.

Kazuya looked at the man with furrowed eyebrows.

"Relax, I was playing," Takeda grinned as bits of egg fell from his lips.

Kazuya was half tempted to punch him across the restaurant, then kick him in the other direction.

"Ah, look who's here," Takeda looked up from his plate and whistled. His black eyes opened even wider with obvious excitement, so much so Kazuya could swear they would drop into his plate at any moment. The blue haired man quickly wiped his lips with a napkin, straightened himself, and walked from his seat.

Kazuya remained motionless, though his gaze followed Takeda's path to, the former G-Corporation CEO surmised, claim a curious prize: a fiery red mane burning hotter than the morning sun, sapphire eyes as cold and piercing as diamonds, a curvaceous figure ('88cm' kept repeating in his head) threatening to burst from the seams of its enclosure in the form of a little black dress… and a nice set of legs.

Yes, a very nice set of legs…

_SMACK!_

Kazuya's eyebrow twitched at the sound as Takeda found himself knocked backwards almost off his feet. A red handprint flushed his left cheek, yet the grin on the blue haired man's expression looked just as excited as when he walked over to 'greet' the woman in the first place.

"My joy is boundless…" Kazuya heard him say. "She… _touched_ me!"

"Ahhhhhh!" the red haired woman screamed…

("Without gloves this time!" Takeda proclaimed.)

…and stomped over to where Kazuya was seated.

"Minamoto," Kazuya bowed his head politely.

"Mr. Mishima," the woman greeted him in response. Angrily, she pulled up a chair and vehemently sat across from Takeda's seat, making sure to put enough distance between herself and the jovial blue haired man.

"Now that we're all here," Takeda clapped and jumped back to his seat, giving Minamoto a wink as he sat, "let us get down to business. Minamoto, will you do the honors?"

With the amount of frustration built up, one could almost believe you would drop dead from Minamoto's icy glare. Takeda, of course, found those ruthless red gems to be quite attractive, and merely swept his hand to the woman in gesture. Kazuya waited impatiently.

"These are the latest files I was able to copy from Soleil's computers," Minamoto explained as she discreetly pulled out a small data key no bigger than half an inch from her purse and handed it over to Kazuya. "The information contained within is rather complicated to be of much use. Mostly jargon and many formulas and equations and whatnot. How are you going to decipher it?"

"I will worry about that issue," Kazuya replied evenly, pulling out a hand held device from his pocket, plugged the data key to one of the ports and began uploading the files. Just as Minamoto had warned, the screen became filled with all sorts of scientific and technical explanations that would baffle even some of the most academically sound minds, along with complex graphs, diagrams, and formulas that supposedly act to back up all that gibberish. If the former Iron Fist champion was confused from the data overload, he was not showing it.

"What do you think?" Takeda asked pleasantly. "Is it worthy of attention?"

"For now," he replied, shutting the hand held device and placing it back into his pocket.

"Told you it was worth the wait," Takeda laughed. "My partner's a talent when it comes to these jobs."

"Don't call me partner."

"Amongst many other things (rawr)."

Minamoto flinched as Takeda leered at the woman. Anger boiled over as she reached over to grab a fork. Only willpower kept her from jumping off her seat and stabbing the utensil between his eyes.

"About our deal, Mr. Mishima," Minamoto changed the subject.

Kazuya leaned back and quietly crossed his legs as a man would in preparing to negotiate business. "I have not forgotten."

"I certainly hope you didn't. Considering the work we've done digging all that information for the past couple of weeks…"

"You mean what _I've_ done," Minamoto snapped.

"Hey, I helped out, too; I drive the car, I bought the sneakers…" Takeda leaned over towards Minamoto and whispered, "and I won the bet (love the dress, by the way)…"

The red haired woman dug her fingernails into her hand, struggling mightily against the temptation to jam every piece of silverware on the table into Takeda's skull.

"As I was saying, we got you Soleil's data, something your own agents couldn't do," the blue haired man continued. "Now it's your turn." Takeda straightened himself in his chair and clasped his hands on front of his chin.

The former CEO allowed himself a devilish smile as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a white envelope. Takeda reached over to examine its contents, scrutinizing the items in his hand, and tossed said contents over to his irritated partner.

"Wow," Takeda remarked, scratching his head. "T-That was quick. How did you manage – "

"Child's play," Kazuya smiled coldly. His expression then hardened to seriousness. "Unlike you, I don't make my clients wait."

* * *

"No."

"But, Minamoto – "

"I don't want to hear it."

"Come on, it's true."

"You are a disgusting man, so no."

"Disgusting – I'm _disgusting_?" Takeda deadpanned, looking at the rearview mirror. Minamoto sat at the back of the SUV with her arms and legs crossed, while Kazuya lazily stared out the window on the passenger side.

"You heard me, you are a disgusting man," Minamoto repeated, placing emphasis in her statement as she spoke. "Perverted… disgusting… idiotic man…"

"Why…" Takeda looked at the woman's reflection with trembling lips. "Why… that's the kindest thing you've ever said to me…"

"What!"

"A woman after my heart!" Takeda held one hand to his chest while steering the wheel of the SUV.

"That was not a compliment!"

"You truly know how to make me feel like a million dollars!"

"Ugh…"

"But, seriously…" Takeda shifted his black, mischievous eyes towards the passenger side. "Kazuya, you understand, don't you?"

"Do not involve him in your twisted discussion!"

"No, really, as a man of upstanding culture and taste," Takeda complimented, "don't you find body paint on a woman to be hot?"

Kazuya's eyes widened at the question. His initial response was to dismiss the question outright. However, being a man who lived a lavish lifestyle of rich culture and taste, as Takeda so elegantly put it… The elder Mishima shifted in his seat and, resting his elbow on the door, rubbed his chin in thought. Minamoto watched quietly in disbelief.

"Well?"

"I don't share your enthusiasm," Kazuya pondered. "But if the paint was a dark color, perhaps purple…"

"See? See!" Takeda snapped his fingers and waved his index finger in the air excitedly. "He understands. He – totally – understands! I mean, personally, there's something to be said about the brighter colors like orange or red, but I'm telling you it's an art… an art on the hottest canvas ever made!" Takeda excitedly grasped Kazuya by the shoulder. "Really, though, why purple?"

"Do not touch me."

"Oh yeah," Takeda hastily released his grip, though completely unfazed by Kazuya's angry stare. "Sorry about that. Forgot you're not into the whole male bonding thing. Or any kind of bonding for that matter." The blue haired man slumped his head forward and let out a loud exhale. "Listen, though you still have money, and I mean you still have _lots_ of money, you're not the big pimp you were even a year ago. I like women as much as the next man, lesbian, or pervert, but you have to learn to be more sociable with other people (and bedding them or ordering people around does not count). You simply can't stick with Miss 'Sleazy Sister in a Trashy Hotel 2017, Psycho Slut Edition' – "

"I beg your pardon?" Kazuya nearly did a double take.

"Look it up on the Interwebs, not very difficult to find in search engines, plus it's only five bucks per month – "

"Excuse me?" Minamoto cut in.

"Hey, I'm not making this up, it's really out there. At any rate, uh… you simply can't stick with… you know, _her_ all the time, or mope around your room waiting for innocent little J – "

"That's enough, Takeda," Minamoto warned.

"Fine, fine…" Takeda shook his head. "As I was saying, it's all about the three b's: booze, broads, body paint. It's the perfect trinity. Here's your stop." The SUV signaled and drove next to the curb before braking to a complete stop. "Five days till the big tournament… aren't you excited?" Takeda maintained his grin in spite of Kazuya's stone cold glare. "I take it as a yes."

Without uttering a sound, Kazuya opened the passenger door, stepped out of the vehicle with the box of sneakers in hand, and, shutting the door behind him, walked away from the GL without turning back.

Takeda watched dumbfounded while Minamoto shifted in her seat with her head turned away from the driver. The blue haired man rolled down the passenger window and cried, "Thank you! You're welcome!"

The two partners sat in the vehicle in a brief moment of silence.

"That went quite well, wouldn't you say?" Takeda asked with a shrug.

"Hmph!" Minamoto huffed.

* * *

Kazuya walked back into the house, cradling the sneakers in his hand.

Stepping through the door, the former G-Corporation CEO kicked away some of the junk strewn on the ground, silently cursing under his breath for the messiness of the house. Removing his jacket and tossing it to a chair, he walked through the small living room past a passed out, partially bandaged Anna on the couch, and went straight to his room.

Carefully removing the sneakers from the box, the former G-Corporation CEO and avid sneaker collector examined the footwear in his hands with a critical eye, then, satisfied with its quality, carefully placed the shoes on a handmade platform along with the rest of his collection. Admiring his ever growing shrine of shoes, Kazuya took a few moments to glaze over each sneaker one by one, carefully inspecting them as any collector would. Next to the daily walks and the constant meetings with that annoyance named Takeda and his more tolerable yet whiney 'partner', Minamoto, Kazuya had also found more time to tend to his sneaker collection than when he was a president and CEO waging war against his bloodline.

Relaxed, Kazuya diverted his attention away from his collection and focused his attention on the newly acquired data from Minamoto and Takeda. Flicking the portable device on, he thumbed through the data on the unit's touch screen, examining the information in hopes of making heads or tails out of the mountains and mountains of terminologies. Minamoto referred to the data as being complicated; that had to be the biggest understatement he had ever heard. While he was able to make some sense of what he read, most of the information simply flew over his head. For all he cared, he could be reading a secret recipe for making chocolate rather than data on Soleil's next great breakthrough in genetics; it was too much for him to comprehend in one sitting.

Frowning at the screen, he flicked the device off and tossed it to the table. He could feel a migraine start to form. Rubbing the back of his neck, he pulled up a wooden chair to sit and stared blankly at the wall.

"Having a bad day?"

Kazuya glanced at the doorway from his peripheral as Anna stood outside with arms folded over her ample chest.

"Hm…"

"I'll take that as a yes," Anna purred. Playfully, the brunette stepped into the room and wrapped her arms around Kazuya's shoulders seductively.

Several seconds had passed, and Kazuya remained absolutely still while Anna kept her arms locked around her employer.

"You really are having a bad day," Anna broke the silence. "Normally you'd at least give me that mean look when I do that, or do something rough…"

Without a word, Kazuya grabbed Anna firmly by the wrist, inciting a yelp from the brunette.

"Hey!" she squealed. "That was mean!" Anna rubbed gingerly at her bruised wrist. "That hurt. That really hurt. That stupid robot already bruised it, then Nina made it worse… You didn't have to pinch me that hard you know!"

The elder Mishima turned his head to the brunette and gave her the coldest, iciest glare he could give. Anna felt a chill down her spine and completely got the drift.

"Fine, you're not in the mood," she raised her arms in the air and muttered. "You're never in the mood."

"Just remember your place," Kazuya uttered in a low tone.

"You don't need to remind me," Anna sighed. As much as she enjoyed teasing her employer from time to time (and most men in general), when it comes to Kazuya, she quickly learned in the past when to draw the line. This would be one of those times.

Brushing back a lock of her hair, the younger Williams sauntered to the door. With one foot passed the doorway, the Irish woman suddenly stopped.

"What is it?" Kazuya asked.

Anna chuckled quietly to herself, pondering the question asked, and more importantly, why she suddenly felt the urge to say something to that tyrant of a man. She could especially feel the gaze from his crimson left eye burn through her as she quickly tried to think of a reply.

"Well?"

"What you're trying to do," she finally spoke out. "Just…"

Kazuya folded his arms across his chest.

"Just…" Anna exhaled quietly. "Don't get yourself killed."

The former G Corporation CEO raised a bushy eyebrow.

"I'm simply doing my job as your bodyguard, that's all," Anna added, and walked out. "Don't get yourself killed…" Anna grumbled to herself as she left. "Of all things to say, why did it have to be that?"

* * *

In a hotel room, Takeda examined the contents of the envelope in his hand for the tenth time while waiting for Minamoto to change.

"And I was getting used to the dress," Takeda pouted.

"If you like it so much, _you_ wear it," Minamoto grunted from the bathroom, struggling to remove the black garment as she spoke.

"I would, but it's a couple of sizes too small for me," Takeda replied, lazily flipping the pages on the bed sheets. "Trust me, I would look hot in that dress, and you know it."

Minamoto had a number of things to say to that, including how this dress was already a couple of sizes too small for her, and other harsh and obscene comments. She chose the higher ground and left the topic alone.

"And you didn't have to act so humiliating in front of Mr. Mishima," the red haired woman added.

Takeda could only smile at her remark. "Come on, you know you loved it," he teased. "Watching the man squirm in his seat, especially that whole topic on the three b's – "

"Stupid… skirt…"

"Pardon me?"

"Do not make me come and hurt you."

Takeda's smile turned into a full-fledged grin. "Is that a promise?"

_BAM!_

The blue haired man looked up from the bed to see a visibly frustrated Minamoto slamming open the bathroom door with fists balled and hanging at her sides. The accursed black dress she was forced to wear hung lifelessly within her clenched right hand. The normally cold crimson eyes burned in anger as an ill-tempered Minamoto locked her sights at the more carefree Takeda.

"Let me remind you," Minamoto began as she took a couple of threatening steps towards the bed. "The only reason why I tolerate your juvenile behavior is for the sake of the clan. I would have preferred anyone else over you except that the rest of our family is either dead or missing."

Takeda's dark eyes sparkled with mischief. "Nice pants," he said, admiring the way her trousers hugged around her hips and perfectly toned legs. Yes, he thought, long, sexy, perfectly toned…

Minamoto tossed the dress at Takeda's face. "Can't you at least act serious for once?"

"Hmhmhmhm…"

"And what's so funny?"

Takeda removed the dress from his face and looked up to Minamoto with a smile. He was sorely tempted to tease the woman further, finding amusement in her wrath (at perhaps the cost of a broken bone or twenty). "If you have that much energy to burn," he replied, motioning the red haired woman over, "then why don't you come on over and look through these photos."

Minamoto bit her tongue hard. It seemed everything Takeda did managed to get a rise from her.

"Well? Are you going to help, or will you just stand there?"

Relenting, Minamoto slowly walked over to the bed and kneeled next to him. Takeda turned the files over to give his partner a better view. As it turned out, Kazuya gave them more than simply paperwork; he also gave them photos, schedules, locations, even traveling routes. Both Minamoto and Takeda had to agree that, if anything else, Kazuya liked to be quick and thorough with his business.

"Armored truck," Takeda blurted out.

"Not just any truck," Minamoto added. "Top of the line, complete with a light field. Cracking that shell won't be easy."

"Not with what we have at the moment," Takeda nodded.

"And that doesn't include the heavy escorts that will certainly accompany it."

"Check out the guns on those things. Those people are serious about keeping that truck safe."

"So first we have to remove their escorts, then we have to figure out how to break that field before taking that truck." Minamoto sighed bleakly.

"At least we have some time to get ourselves ready," Takeda relaxed. "The cargo won't arrive until about two days."

The red haired woman nodded in agreement.

"Are you certain we can trust him?" she asked.

"Not even for a second," Takeda admitted. Slowly, the blue haired man rolled off the bed, stretching the kinks from his shoulders, and walked towards the closet. "On the other hand, this is the only lead we've got, and he still has his hands in the business. Besides, rich as Kazuya may still be, he's not the powerhouse he was a year ago. In some ways, he's as desperate as we are."

"I hope you're right."

"The fact that he rode with us and living in that little house with occupants he at best tolerates?" he pointed out. Unzipping his suitcase, he pulled open the cover to reveal a pair of heavily modified Berettas coated in a metallic finish. He examined the pistols with admiration, glossing over the finish before assembling the weapons. "Trust me, call him a devil, call him a snake," he continued, snapping the cartridges in place, then twirling the pistols in his fingers, "but I know some of that hard Mishima armor got worn out along the way, and I think I have a pretty good idea what that is."

"And what would that be?"

"Oh, you know exactly what that is."

With that, he quickly turned and pointed the pistols at one of the mirrors. Minamoto merely rolled her eyes at him.

"Bang."

* * *

"Don't get yourself killed," Kazuya murmured the words to himself.

Nina and Jin have yet to return, and Anna had just left to… somewhere. Not that it really mattered to him. All that mattered was he had the house to himself. Peace and quiet for the next few hours (maybe), plenty of time to relax, and plenty of time to figure out that data he was given.

Fifteen minutes later, Kazuya felt his eyes go cross-eyed from staring at the screen and dropped the device on the ground.

Another hour later, Kazuya began tossing one of his sneakers in the air out of boredom while talking to one of his agents on the phone.

Yet another hour later, he began flipping through channels on the television. As usual, hundreds of channels, nothing worthwhile to watch.

Yet another twenty minutes had passed, and he found himself staring at the torn remnant of a silk scarf for perhaps the thousandth time.

Half an hour more, Kazuya found himself yelling angrily over the phone at his agent's incompetence.

Two minutes later, the former executive started staring at the piece of silk once more and sighed.

Finally, after another hour and forty seven minutes of frustration, Kazuya came to a conclusion: he's getting absolutely nowhere.

Growling to himself (or perhaps that was his stomach…), he tossed the scarf onto the table and leaned against the wall.

_Don't get yourself killed…_

In another minute or two, he thought, something _will_ die. Furthermore, not only will something die, but that something will die in the slowest possible way.

And Kazuya will use chopsticks.

Chopsticks… and body paint… purple body paint…

Kazuya chuckled to himself. These past few days had definitely driven him mad. The former G-Corporation CEO and executive turned his head towards a full length mirror. Several seconds later, his eyes shifted back to the screen on his portable device, back to the mirror, back to the device, then back to the mirror once again.

_Mad? You haven't seen mad yet…_

Picking up the device in his hands, he quickly scrolled through the pages on the touch screen, shifting through images like turning pages from a book until he stumbled upon a specific image. Turning the screen over, Kazuya ran his finger along a fine piece of writing… not just any sort of writing, he realized, but a kind of… code? No, not a code… a language… a very familiar dialect…

_Where have I seen this before?_

The moment he asked the question, Kazuya immediately knew the answer. He had seen this during his years as a guinea pig with the G-Corporation, well before he made his hostile takeover. Twenty odd years before, he had seen it during his abrupt reign as the King of Iron Fist during the second tournament. And further still, he caught glimpses of these writings as a young boy, back when Heihachi dropped him into that chasm…

Back when the Devil first took hold of him…

Kazuya shook his head and laughed.

This was no ordinary writing at all. This was a language that predated numerous ancient civilizations, one that no living human being (as far as he knew) could understand. No name was ever given to this dialect, save for one label: the tongue of demons.

_A language for devils…_

Kazuya stared at his reflection in the mirror wordlessly. During the fourth tournament, Kazuya discovered the means to finally gain direct control over his power, something science had failed countless times. When the moment came to take control of this power, he seized the opportunity, practically grabbed it by the throat. Power he had gained… but there was always that nagging feeling that something was missing…

Now that he realized what was missing, he now had to make a choice. His options had become very limited, and he had a mere five days till the new tournament begins. This was one option that he didn't want to use.

Then again, between bringing his 'son' (a term he would like to use very loosely) back from the proverbial grave, rehiring both Williams sisters as bodyguards, and bending over backwards between Minamoto and that bothersome Takeda, all while watching his back from countless other enemies, including the possibility of whoever is running Soleil Inc., Kazuya came to another realization…

_What's another annoyance?_

Pushing himself up, he gradually walked over to the mirror and looked at his reflection again.

_Don't get yourself killed…_

"Too late," he muttered, raising his right hand towards the mirror. Both his eyes began to glow red as his reflection began to change. At first, it started off as a slight waver, the equivalent of a small stone thrown into a pond. Gradually, that slight wave grew in size and speed, becoming a torrential cascade of waves crashing into one another. Finally, the waves gradually slowed down and eventually stopped, revealing a different reflection on the mirror. With the task completed, Kazuya lowered his hand and glowered at the image before him: a grotesque, demonic doppelganger of himself, or at least what's left of it.

This bluish purple reflection, a once proud and mighty beast, now hung almost lifelessly on a set of chains tied around its throat and strewn over its body. What's left of that body wasn't much, as it was nothing more than a head and an upper torso. Its body from the waist down had been torn off as was its arms. In its place, various tubes attached themselves to its 'bloody' stumps, seemingly leeching the life out of it. Where there were once horns on its head, all that was left were a pair of holes and a mess of dried blood on its wild and messy hair. Where there were once majestic wings, large gashes remained with hooks gouging through its skin. In this state, it would be difficult to believe that the Devil is the source of his power…

Kazuya glared at his doppelganger in the mirror and snarled. "Wake up!"

Nothing.

"Wake up!"

"Ugh…" the one called Devil lolled its head, weakened from all those years of being locked away in Kazuya's psyche.

"Open your damn eyes," Kazuya growled under his breath.

Slowly, the Devil came to, squinting at the light reflected into his eyes. Finally, fully awakened from its long slumber, the purple doppelganger met Kazuya's gaze with its own crimson eyes. All the Devil could do upon seeing his host for the first time in years was smile.

"Hello, boy," it said in an exact mimicry of his own voice. "It's been a long time."


	8. Stage 7

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 7_

How did this day go wrong?

Come to think of it, how did these past few weeks go wrong?

It had been several months since Nina found some decent work, what, with the current economy shaken from a year ago. Oh, sure, she found a few jobs here and there, but mostly low key, low profile, small time hits. Even then, work was rather scarce, and fewer people had the deep pockets to pay even a fraction of what it costs to hire someone like the 'Silent Assassin'.

As fate would have it, she received a call some days ago from her old employer, Jin Kazama, promising to hire her once again as his assistant and bodyguard with a rather lucrative contract. This was good, because Nina's savings was almost tapped out, and the last job she had paid very little and was boring as ****. Granted, given the track record she had with anyone of the Mishima blood line (whether Jin would admit it or not), such jobs should be approached with plenty of caution.

On the other hand, the payout was good, and Jin rarely reneged on his deals.

Days later, major dilemma.

It was not enough that she found herself having to also deal with one of her old enemies, none other than the 'great' (a word she used rather subjectively) Kazuya Mishima, but also she had to share the damn spotlight with the always whiney, always hideous, and forevermore the psycho slut, Anna.

And now?

Nina found herself in a middle of a fight with her employer. What made it worse, her employer had just transformed into a demon. More specifically, a very powerful and _pissed off_ demon. Compounding that fact, whatever injuries Nina sustained before had just gotten worse. As if getting beaten by that robot wasn't enough…

Now, she found herself sprawled along the floor in the middle of nowhere outside from what was once a tailor shop… and Devil Jin wasn't done with her one bit. All this, and it was still early in the afternoon.

_One bloody cluster**** after another…_

"Oh ****!" she cursed, rolling away just in time to avoid being fried to a crisp by a pair of lancing beams from Devil Jin's eyes.

"No, seriously, that is so unfair!" Nina spat, hobbling back onto her feet. "Wasn't tossing me around with your psychic… ugh…" Nina winced, "…whatever …that was bad enough. Now, you're flying! And… you're shooting lasers! _Lasers_!"

"Nina…" Devil Jin's voice echoed eerily.

"Oh, I wonder what you're gonna do to me now…" she muttered under her breath.

"Die…" the demon replied.

"That was a rhetorical question," she said ruefully.

In a split second after she uttered those words, Devil Jin made his descent. Within that split second, in spite of her injuries, Nina had the foresight to dodge his furious attack, allowing her feral employer to sail past her by mere inches. Thus, instead of getting herself caught in his grasp with the high possibility of being gutted by his claws or simply torn in two, the blonde assassin merely got slashed in the back by said claws and bleeding profusely from the open wounds.

_Mother - !_

Thus the power of positive thinking at work.

Nina stumbled on her hands and feet from Devil Jin's 'near miss', uttering several choice profanities in her mind while struggling to maintain some semblance of composure. Meanwhile, Devil Jin, in spite of his insanity, snapped his massive, feathery wings and skidded along the ground on his feet until he came to a complete stop. Body hunched over and arms dangling in front of him, Devil Jin stood prone with his back turned towards the blonde assassin. His eyes wide with bloodlust, his breathing audible and intense even from a distance, and his fingers twitched uncontrollably as blood dripped from his talons.

"Hah…. hah…. hah…"

The blonde assassin ambled to her feet, raising her hands in front of her face in a somewhat wobbly fighting stance. Wobbly, thanks to a few bruises on her legs and the accelerating blood loss from the open wounds on her chest and back. The beatings on the head she took, particularly when she got tossed like a rag doll, that would also account for the haziness she felt up to this point.

"Hah… hah… hah… hah…"

Nina shook her head in an attempt to clear at least some of that haze. Devil Jin still did not move from his spot, and though he stood a fair distance away from where she stood, his back was a very obvious and vulnerable target for the elder Williams to exploit. Nina was ready to seize this opportunity…

…and all she could do was stand there herself. More choice profanities popped in her head.

"Alright…" she murmured quietly to herself, assessing the situation and her current predicament… a difficult feat in itself, she discovered, since she could still feel the pounding in her head. Nina shut her eyes tight then opened them just as quick. Blood loss… getting heavier by the minute… legs… could barely feel them now… Yet in spite of her injuries, she realized that if she were to survive this encounter and stop her demon-possessed employer from going on some bloodthirsty rampage, now would be the perfect chance for her to do so.

If only I didn't feel so sluggish… she thought to herself.

Nina quietly inhaled and took a tentative step towards her opponent…

It was then that Devil Jin's breathing suddenly went silent and immediately snapped himself straight, causing the Irish woman to blanch.

_Uh oh…_

His wings fluttered violently as though possessed (an irony in itself, given the circumstances), then quietly folded themselves neatly behind his back. Baring his teeth, a low, sinister snarl escaped his quivering lips. Suddenly, the vulnerable backside seemed a lot less vulnerable…

Devil Jin turned his head towards the elder Williams. Nina, swallowing a lump in her throat, looked Devil straight in the eye. Then, in a complete frenzy, Devil Jin attacked…

* * *

_Where are we?_

_What are we doing here?_

_Ah, home sweet home!_

_I'm scared…_

_Are they still following us? Are they? Are they!_

_Don't stop! Run!_

_Why did we leave them?_

_What? Are you crazy! They're after us! Not them!_

_How do you know that! We need to turn back! They might be in trouble because – _

_Leave that pretty boy prince alone! He and that ***** can take care of themselves!_

"L-leave me alone…" Hanako pleaded in the dark. She covered her head in a vain attempt to shut out the voices inside her head. "Please… just… leave… me…"

_I'm scared…_

_Quit your whining!_

_Why did we run to this place?_

_I'm tired of running…_

_No! No stopping!_

Hanako pressed her head hard against the dingy wall. With so many voices bombarding in her skull, the putrid odors or the filth smeared on her face were the least of her concerns. All she wanted, all she craved at the moment, was simple peace and quiet…

_I'm sick of hiding! I'm sick of running! We stand and fight!_

_Hehehehehe…_

_No! I don't want to go back. I don't want to get killed!_

_Alright, then we kill them!_

_No… no! We… we can't do such a thing! Can we?_

_Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!_

"Shut up!" Hanako shrieked, her shrills echoed through the darkness, frightening the sewer's inhabitants. She exerted so much force in that one scream that she lost her balance and toppled face first into a puddle. Hanako rolled on the cold, muddy ground, choking and sputtering from the sewage in her mouth.

"Ugh…" she groaned.

Feebly, Hanako rolled over onto her back. Cold, filthy water soaked into her clothes, leaving a chill all over her body. Her hair, equally soaked and in a ragged mess. Her skin, caked with dirt and other unmentionables. Her breath was rank, and her body felt unkempt, especially given the setting the voices (some of them anyways) lead her to. Aching and exhausted, Hanako could do little else beyond lying down and stare blankly at the droplets leaking from the pipes.

Hanako closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. Reflecting upon the day's events, between beating Jin's face to meeting that evil blonde murderer before ditching them both, she felt a tinge of remorse for her actions. Her head lolled to the side, her mind barely registering the wetness against her cheek. In fact, it took several moments to realize what was happening.

Or rather, what was _not_ happening.

"Heh… hehehehe…" she chuckled. It didn't matter that her grip in sanity had apparently frayed. It didn't matter that she looked like a complete mess. All that mattered at the moment was, if even for the briefest of moments, silence.

Peace.

Tranquility.

Silence.

Bliss.

Hanako relished in the peace and quiet in her head. Not even the dullness in her head or the soreness of her body would ruin this moment. The woman turned her head upwards and opened her eyes…

…and she suddenly felt a hand grab her by the shirt and yanked her off the ground.

* * *

Mere moments of seeing her life flashed before her, Nina decided there really was a god. Either that, or a Buddha, she couldn't quite decide which one.

The decision didn't come to her right away, of course, but whatever it was be it god, angel, or deity, fate decided to show her mercy as Devil Jin's momentum seemed to have slowed. Instead of being eviscerated while the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO gloats over his prize, Nina was merely knocked hard onto her back while the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO seethed over his prize.

Again, the power of positive thinking at work.

Of course, said change in momentum from Devil Jin was also aided by an apparent moment of… indecision. A small one it may be, that briefest moment of indecisiveness along with the loss in his step was precisely what saved Nina from absolute death. Instead, the blonde woman gained yet another wound to an already growing collection of bumps, cuts, and bruises. At least she was still conscious, though perhaps that was not saying a whole lot.

Still, positive thinking… at least Nina could still stand on her feet, which she did with a bit of effort.

Just then, Devil Jin's roar snapped her back to attention. Only this time, instead of the berserk, frenzied roar he gave her during this whole bout, it was one of blood curdling pain and anguish. Devil Jin's eyes rolled as he stumbled on his steps, his balance suddenly wavering as he clutched at his sides like a wounded animal.

"Hah… hah… hah…"

Breathing erratically, his eyes began to water as he moved his hands from his sides to his head, as though trying to shut out some kind noise blaring through his ears.

_Let me go…_

_Please don't kill me!_

"Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!"

* * *

The cries of a thousand voices screamed in her head as Hanako found herself slammed hard against the grungy wall. An all too familiar collar was locked around her neck, causing more pandemonium for the voices trapped in her skull. The cursed seal that kept Hanako in check…

_No, I don't want to go back, I don't want to go back – _

_We're going to die!_

_Let me go!_

_We should have run when we had the chance!_

Forcing herself to endure those screams, she feebly attempted to pry the collar loose from her neck. Failing that, she then put all her effort into prying herself loose from the vice-like grip of her captor. A pair of red eyes lit up in the darkness and glared at her with contempt.

_Do not make this any more difficult than need be,_ were the words that ran through Jack's processers.

As though hearing those words, Hanako returned a vicious glare at the android, matching his merciless stare with her own fiery gaze.

_SLAM!_

Jack, holding the woman like a broken toy, slammed the woman against the wall with his massive right hand, knocking some of the wind out of her. To his annoyance, Hanako continued to struggle in his grip, pushing and kicking against his fist in a pitiful attempt to free herself.

_SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! SLAM!_

Jack repeatedly slammed the woman against the wall, knocking her with such force the walls shook from each impact. When Hanako showed even the least bit of struggle, Jack would only slam her harder, repeating the process over and over while taking care not to kill her in the process.

Not at first anyways.

"Kiyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Hanako wailed.

* * *

"Ugh… arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!" Jin cried out.

For the Silent Assassin, this would be a good opportunity for Nina to either retreat to recover from her injuries, or use what strength she had left to end his misery. In spite of her own wounds, Nina was a resilient woman as many of her victims had learned in the past. As such, both options, while physically challenging, were quite possible in her condition. The question she had was which option she would choose…

"Ugh… hah… hah… hah…" Devil Jin gasped, nearly choking on his own saliva. All of a sudden, Devil Jin's legs buckled and the man collapsed onto the ground groveling. It was, to say the least, a rather pathetic sight to see. Of course, Devil Jin was in no position to feel any sort of shame what so ever.

That was when Nina made her move.

* * *

The giant android could only look at this pathetic piece of refuse with pity. The way she continued her incessant thrashing in spite of her odds, the way she continued to cry out in utter defiance, there was simply no logic to this resistance.

_SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! SLAM!_

One thing the android did admire was the resilience from brutality he gave her. If it was any other human being, he or she would be a pile of broken bones by now. Unfortunately for Jack, her resilience meant more time wasted on incapacitating her, and more time wasted meant less time for Jane to live…

_SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! SLAM!_

_CRASH!_

Hanako's body nearly slipped out of his hand as the wall suddenly exploded behind her from Jack's repeated slams. The woman gagged as dust from the debris entered her mouth. Her head slumped slightly to the side, the constant cries in her head taking a toll on her so much so that even the beatings she received from the android seemed minor in comparison. Worn and disheveled, one thing Hanako took solace in was the fact that the voices finally ceased.

Jack, however, had other ideas.

Adjusting his grip, Jack lifted his left hand and held the woman with both hands together. The android leaned his head towards Hanako's face, gazing into the woman's golden irises with a hint of irritation. Exhausted, the battered woman mustered all the strength she had in her to return the android's gaze with one of her own.

And then, Jack began to squeeze.

* * *

"Hang in there…" Nina wheezed, as she turned Devil Jin over and laid him on his back.

Devil Jin, hugging himself, rocked side to side on the ground as he struggled to breathe, unaware of even Nina's presence.

"Stay with me, Jin, stay with me," Nina said in a helpless tone. The elder Williams wasn't sure what to even make of this situation, never mind what to do to help him. As she had reminded Jin repeatedly in the past, taking lives was in her job description, not saving them, and right now, his life looked to be in need of saving.

"Hah… hah… N-Nina…?"

The blonde assassin gaped at the call of her name and, holding his head, looked into his eyes. The fury and rage that burned in his eyes mere moments ago had now been replaced with helplessness and confusion.

"Jin?" she replied hoarsely.

"Wha… what… is…" Jin never got a chance to finish the sentence. He suddenly arched his back in pain and collapsed back down to the ground. His whole body began to spasm as a seemingly invisible grip began to squeeze the life out of him. His eyes bulged and his mouth hung open as though trying to scream, only his voice was stuck in his throat. All he managed to utter were guttural noises and muffled choking sounds.

_Cluster****, cluster****, cluster****!_

Forgetting about her wounds, Nina waved her hands over him helplessly, unsure of exactly what to do. With his convulsions growing more violent, the blonde assassin pressed her hands on his shoulders in an attempt to hold him down. It managed to reduce his movements somewhat, but it did nothing to stop whatever was apparently killing him.

"N… Ni… na…"

"Shut your mouth, kid," Nina muttered the words. "Just… hang in there…" Nina repeated. In her mind, however, she was thinking, _Who am I kidding? I don't even know what is causing all this in the first place, and here I am telling him to hang on! Actually, not true… I think I have an idea what's causing this…_

"G… g… e… a… wa…"

"I told you to shut your mouth!" Nina yelled in frustration. "Really, I'll figure something…" _If I could just get my hands on that chickie…_

* * *

Hanako gaped helplessly as she felt her life slowly ebb away.

Though Jack's orders were to bring her back to the Master, the android was never told in exactly what kind of shape she should be in. Granted, the massive droid knew precisely what his superiors meant, but he could still play the part of dumb robot should the need arise…

"G… ge… agh… ge…"

Jack glared at the squirming woman in his hands. The droid felt somewhat insulted that, aside from the fact she had the resilience of a cockroach, Hanako hardly posed much of a challenge for his vaunted strength. Indeed, this was supposed to be Soleil's greatest experiment? Why, she was nothing more than another insect to be squashed.

Especially one who wore the brand of an evil demon.

With the image of an injured Jane still burning bright in his memory, Jack angrily tightened his grip on his victim, emotion overcoming logic, the thought of both Jin and Kazuya fueling his rage as he intended to kill Hanako and deliver the corpse to the Master.

Meanwhile, Hanako convulsed in Jack's grip, helpless to offer any resistance what so ever. The only other action she could perform was coughing out blood, and that in itself was an involuntary action. Arching her neck, Hanako looked up to the lights and cried out in a silent scream.

* * *

Devil Jin, mouth stained with blood, grew more and more pale by the minute.

As Nina continued to struggle to figure a way to save her employer, the desperate former CEO merely looked through the Irish woman and set his eyes towards the sky. At this point, nothing else seemed to register, save for the pounding in his head, and the oxygen being deprived from his lungs. Though he could see, though he could hear, neither sight nor sound connected.

Meanwhile, Nina looked down at her employer, completely lost. She mouthed some words of assurance here and there, grabbing and shaking him weakly at the same time while blind to the blood from her wounds dripping onto her hands. Not much good that did, nor did her words even register to him. Truth be told, even she no longer had any idea what she said to him. Her thoughts seemed rather distant while her mouth automatically regurgitated words for her.

Whether it be out of fear or insanity, in his agony, Devil Jin weakly raised his right hand to the air, stretching his hand to the heavens above.

* * *

The voices in Hanako's head began to stir once more. This time, however, the voices were not in disarray or arguing amongst each other. This time, they chanted in unison.

* * *

Gradually, an aura of red lightning appeared around Devil Jin's outstretched hand. No longer struggling, the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO arched his neck, and began to chant.

* * *

Typically, those voices would normally cause nothing but anguish for her. This time, however, the voices sounded so… smooth… harmonious. The language, she could not understand, and yet… the song somehow brought comfort to her.

And then, Hanako felt compelled to sing…

* * *

Now, Nina was officially creeped out.

Mere moments ago, her employer, in a fit of rage, tried to kill her. Mere moments later, he suddenly began to, as far as she knew, suffocated, and was on the verge of dying. Now, the struggling stopped, which was a good thing. The chanting, however… that was a little too strange.

This, she considered strange, coming from a man that could, on an average day, catch bullets or missiles with his hands, flip and toss a vehicle like a child tossing a toy, fight off hundreds of armed soldiers without breaking a sweat, and flat out pummel armored vehicles or giant robots with his bare hands. All of this done without the aid of his demonic blood.

Perhaps the chanting in itself would not seem all that particularly strange if not for the language itself. Though Nina had never heard of the language spoken, something about it seemed vaguely familiar to her… frightening, even. That, more than anything else, caused the assassin to inch away from her employer… but not out of reach.

While the blonde assassin kept her distance, Devil Jin's body became enveloped with red lightning as his chanting continued.

* * *

Jack looked at the woman in his hands perplexed. Moments ago, she was struggling in his grip to free herself. Moments ago, she laid limp at the mercy of his fingertips as he slowly squeezed the blood out of that demon spawn. Now, instead of squealing for her life… she began to sing.

This was an unexpected outcome to say the least. Of all the millions of possibilities, of all the various outcomes he could possibly conceive, this was not one of them.

Of course, more disconcerting to the android was not the fact that the woman was singing, nor was it the purple aura that suddenly illuminated her body. No, what was particularly disconcerting to Jack was the fact that his grip no longer seemed to have any effect on Hanako at all. In fact, the more she sang, the more resilient the woman became… and the more the seal on the collar around her neck seemed to waver.

In the mean time, the voices in Hanako's head chanted louder, compelling her to sing even more.

* * *

_I see them…_ Devil Jin thought to himself.

Everything around him grew dark, including the basking sun, until he was surrounded by nothing but pitch blackness and the silhouette of his outstretched hand.

That was when the symbols started to appear.

_I see them…_ Devil Jin repeated in his mind. Now his chants became faster, the words echoing through the vacuum of the void.

_Symbols… words… familiar…_

* * *

The symbols etched along the collar grew brighter and brighter as Hanako continued to sing…

* * *

Devil Jin allowed himself to smile as his hands covered the symbols in the air.

_This is easy…_

He covered the symbols with the palm of his hand, and 'grabbed' it out of the sky.

* * *

_This is so easy…_

Hanako's singing became faster, keeping in beat with the chanting in her mind.

_All you have to do…_

* * *

_All I have to do…_

* * *

…_is destroy…_

* * *

…_crush it!_

* * *

And with that…

* * *

…Devil Jin curled his talons and 'crushed' the symbols in his hand…

…and with a howl, the collar around Hanako's neck shattered.

* * *

With that completed, Devil Jin's hand slumped to the side, and the darkness dissipated. The sun beat down brightly on his skin, the buildings, including the tailor shop, reappeared…

…and a surprised Nina hovered over him with a combination of trepidation and concern across her expression.

"Jin?" she asked weakly.

"Nina?" he answered back.

"You're back to normal," the blonde woman smiled with relief.

Curious at the remark, Devil lifted his hands to his face and stared at them. No longer the bloody talons with serrated claws on each digit, he saw merely normal human fingers. Propping himself on his elbows to examine himself, the black markings on his chest and abdomen completely disappeared. Touching his temples and the sides of his head, even the horns had retracted, and given the feeling of 'emptiness' on his back, so had his wings. From Nina's reaction to his face, the markings on his forehead also disappeared.

He was back to being 'Jin Kazama' once more.

"I guess I am," he replied.

"I'm glad," Nina grinned, then her expression became stern. "Don't you ever do that again…"

"I hope not – Nina? Nina!"

With the adrenaline worn out, the blonde assassin finally succumbed to her wounds and fainted.

That was when Nina finally decided that a god did exist.

* * *

It happened all too fast for the android.

The moment the seal broke, Jack felt a force tear his hands apart and throw him through the wall behind. When his body skidded to a halt, Jack was surprised at the amount of distance he was between Hanako and himself.

With instruments shaken from the force, his opticals barely registered as the android suddenly felt a weight on top of him. His vision momentarily fizzled from the impact on his chest, yet it didn't take long for Jack to realize what, or rather who, was on top. If the android was human, he would probably shiver at the sight before him.

"Hmhmhmhmhm…" Hanako giggled maliciously, as did the hundreds of ghoulish 'souls' emanating around her.

Staring down at her fallen victim, the woman tilted the android's chin towards her, pondering with the collective voices precisely how to exact her vengeance on her tormenter.


	9. Stage 8

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 8_

Hanako awoke to the sound of her stomach growling.

The past few days since her encounter with the android, Black Jack, were subsequently uneventful. Even the voices in her head seemed to have behaved themselves. What brought about that change, the woman had no idea. She was thankful for the many days of peace she was given, which meant she could focus on other trivial things.

For instance, she stank.

Hours in a sewer left a scent on her body that was a little less flattering. The added perspiration and natural body odor didn't help matters. There was also this nagging aftertaste in her mouth that just wouldn't go away no matter how much she tried to wash it off. Of course, given that fresh water was hard to come by, there was very little washing she could do.

This lead to another problem: she needed new clothes. With all the dirt and grime she gathered, her attire became more and more dingy by the hour. Cold temperatures seemed to be the common theme anywhere she moved, and given that all she had on was a messy tank top, this was no exception. Hanako had some regrets leaving Jin and Nina behind, partly because she had all that wardrobe she could have used right about now.

Hanako groaned as her stomach reminded her of one more trivial item that was in need of attention: FOOD.

The idea of sustenance was a foreign thing to the woman (physically at least), especially since most of her existence was spent behind a glass coffin. All water and nutrients were fed directly to her body via injection while constant fusion experiments were conducted on her. Therefore, instead of worrying about things like hunger and thirst, all she had to worry about were things like brain traumas and cardiac arrests.

She'd rather starve than return to that cursed lab.

Of course, now that these things are of no immediate concern, the lack of food and water was becoming a bit of a nuisance. Hanako regretted leaving Jin and Nina behind yet again, since the two of them did feed her. A bit clumsy eating at first in spite of the memories she had of such meals, plus the fact she wasn't too trustful towards the blonde Irish woman given that she was the one who went out to buy the food in the first place, but she digressed…

Thinking about these things wasn't going to make these problems go away. Cold, alone, and hungry, Hanako needed to act. She knew that Soleil was still after her, and sooner or later, she would have to start running again. Running in filth on an empty stomach were both deadly combinations.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Hanako slowly got on her feet, leaning against a wall for support, and took a first step…

…and nearly doubled over in pain. Hanako was still feeling the injuries sustained from Jack's beating, especially the squeeze he gave her.

This was going to be a little more difficult than she thought.

* * *

Three days have passed, and Kazuya Mishima was no closer to figuring out what precisely to do when the tournament begins than he was when it was first announced.

Oh, certainly, he managed to gather more information on Soleil's particulars, and certainly he managed to coerce his doppelganger to translate some, if not all, the symbols he had shown him (the rest of the conversation, he'd rather not dwell on it). All this and he still managed to keep Jin, Nina, and Anna in the dark despite having to work together. Yet, for all his efforts, the former G-Corporation CEO could not help but feel that he was still ten steps behind.

Kazuya grunted with frustration. Even during the times his back was against the wall, heck even after 'death', he always had at least something up his sleeve. An insurance policy of sorts, just in case. It was one thing to not know anything, but to feel helpless against it, not even holding a single card never mind not holding the proverbial deck, that was unacceptable.

He absentmindedly shook his head to himself. There was one other option he had thought of, one which he had, at first, absolutely refused to consider. However, as he had already committed one unthinkable act after another… what's another going to do…

He wanted to wretch.

"There you are," chimed Anna's voice.

Lying on the hood of a beaten convertible, a new habit he had also picked up, Kazuya didn't bother to look up or acknowledge the younger Williams sister. Instead, he kept his gaze upwards towards the sky, occupying himself with his thoughts. Anna, of course, invited herself next to the elder Mishima, whether he wanted to or not.

"You couldn't have picked a better spot to be in, hm?" she continued. "A classy chateau, an elegant condo, a beautiful beach, or a lively hotel, anything would be better than this dump." Anna rapped her hand on the convertible's roof as she spoke. "Should I even ask why you're out here?"

The brunette didn't really need to wait for an answer to that question. Typical of Kazuya, she wasn't going to get one.

"I thought so," she sighed.

Looking around, Anna found a broken chair within the item of tossed furniture, electronics, and other pieces of unwanted junk. Casually, she plopped the chair next to the convertible, slowly eased herself on the seat and, flipping open a pair of sunglasses, gazed up into the sky.

Two minutes later…

"What are you doing?" Kazuya snarled.

"Looking at the sky," she replied.

"I know that. Why are you doing that?"

"Trying to find what it is about the sky that caught your interest," she shrugged.

Kazuya's lips curled slightly with annoyance, yet continued with his cloud gazing.

Three minutes later…

"I still have no idea what's so interesting up there," Anna sulked.

Kazuya's eyes shifted to the buxom brunette, yet remained silent.

"Really, I am trying hard to find whatever it is that seems to keep you occupied for so long that you couldn't even give me five minutes worth, and I…" Anna raised her hands in an exaggerated tone of defeat. "I don't get it – oh, wait! A bird! Uh… no, not a bird…"

Kazuya's eyebrow twitched.

"If your goal was to goad me to talk, you have succeeded," he growled.

"Huzzah!" Anna pumped her fist in the air.

"What do you want from me?"

"I already told you, I want to know what's so interesting about the sky – "

"What do you want that is so 'urgent' that you insist on pestering me?" he asked with a hint of venom in his voice.

Anna decided not to push the man any further and averted her gaze from the sky back to her employer.

"If you insist," she bowed her head. "One," she began counting on her fingers, "I was bored. As cute as that house of yours may be, it is a huge step down from the big towers and mansions you once had. There's just nothing to do in there. Two, it's a nice day out today, so I figured I should go out for a stroll, and hopefully find something interesting to do along the way. Three, for perhaps the hundredth time, I was left all by my lonesome, and hoped that I would find someone to keep me company. Preferably of the strong, handsome type."

Kazuya stopped short of rolling his eyes. It was the least he could do for the lady, he thought, short of running her through with his fist… or better yet, blackmailing her with the photos he found on the Web.

Deliciously evil as that may be, he decided to hold off on it until a more opportune time arises.

"Fourth," Anna continued, "did I mention to you I was bored? But really, I was…" the Irish woman looked away from Kazuya, choosing her next words carefully. "Look… far be it for me to pry into your personal life, but…" her voice began to drift, "I'm worried."

The former G-Corporation CEO looked at the woman incredulously.

"Worried?" he scoffed.

"Yes, worried!" she snapped. "Worried that, whatever it is that you're obsessing over, that's going to kill you!" A momentary pause. "Do you understand how that will make me look?"

Now Kazuya was curious as to what kind of reply he would get from the brunette, yet also wanted to kick himself the moment he said, "Humor me."

"Humiliating, that's what!" Anna shot up from her chair. "To be stuck with a washed up tycoon is bad enough for my image, but when they start getting all emotional and whiny, my gosh could you imagine what they would say about me afterwards? People would be questioning my taste in men! And, honestly, if you do end up dead, how else am I supposed to collect! As nice a reunion as it may be, I do expect to get some kind of compensation for my work, you know."

"So if my current state makes you look bad, why are you here?" Kazuya asked matter of fact.

"Now that is the million dollar question," she retorted. She plopped herself back on the chair and crossed her arms haughtily.

A moment of silence passed between the two.

"Why have I not killed you yet?" Kazuya asked impishly.

"Because you love my company," Anna answered with an equally impish grin. To add to her allure, the brunette leaned back against her chair and stretched herself like a cat, bringing attention to her ample chest. "You also think I'm hot," she mewed.

Kazuya snorted. "I prefer my women with class," he answered slyly.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he shrugged expressionlessly, turning away from Anna and continued gazing at the sky. "Absolutely nothing at all."

Anna had another retort to her employer's reply, but kept it to herself.

"At least I kept your mind off of whatever it was you were brooding over," she said with a satisfied look. "But, honestly, especially with the tournament coming up, you need to cut loose a little. It's disturbing seeing you like this."

"Your concern for my well being is touching."

"Oh, please, I could care less about your well being," she waved her hand derisively. "You acting all gloomy is just unheard of that it's downright scary, that's all. Besides, I just want to make sure you're alive long enough so I can get paid and leave this hellhole."

"I see," Kazuya shrugged. Even amidst the mockery, the former King of Iron Fist champion couldn't help but smile at her insolence. It was a brief smile, but a smile nevertheless.

_Mission accomplished_, Anna smiled to herself. "Well, I'm off," the brunette stood up. "I've got places to go, shopping to do, sights to see… uh… not that this city has much to offer. You continue staring at the sky, I will do something fun. Later."

Kazuya watched the brunette turn and walk away from the convertible, swaying her hips with each step. After the fifth step, Kazuya called out, "Anna."

The younger Williams sister paused in her tracks with a confused look on her face. "Yeeeeeeeeeees?" Anna straightened herself and purred.

Without answering her, Kazuya flipped open his cell phone and dialed. "Jean," he spoke. "About the favors you asked of me," he continued, catching a brief glimpse of the brunette before speaking over the receiver, "I would like a table for two."

Anna looked at Kazuya perplexed. "What are you doing?"

"You did say you wanted company," Kazuya reminded the woman. "I simply thought I might join you."

"Oh?" she placed her hands on her hips. "I also said I don't want to be seen with washed up, angsty tycoons. I'm also not into fascist tyrants."

"Mmhm, mmhm, hold for a moment, Jean," Kazuya averted his attention to Anna. "Would you rather have McDonald's, or would you rather have some actual food?" he asked. As an afterthought, he added, "I also thought you like having men pay for you."

"Well," Anna ran her hand through her hair thoughtfully. "Since you put it that way… classy restaurant, fascist tyrant, classy restaurant, fascist tyrant… fine, you win."

"Good," Kazuya nodded, turning his attention back to the phone. "So, Jean, table for two, by the window… mmhm… uh-huh… yes, the view… uh-huh… and the platter… especially the chocolates… uh-huh… we will be there in an hour or so… assuming we get to the stylist on time." With a flick of the wrist, Kazuya placed the phone back in his pocket, and pushed himself off the convertible's hood.

Anna was stunned. "What stylist?"

"An excellent one," was all Kazuya would say.

"I see," she tilted her head. "So… where are we going?" Anna asked curiously.

"Don't worry," he replied firmly, again, not willing to explain any further. "You will like it."

"A surprise, huh? High class?"

"Always."

"Of course. Outfit…"

"I have one prepared for you."

"Oh really?"

"You will look flattering."

"I better be. And will you be wearing that purple suit?"

"I beg your pardon?" Kazuya raised an eyebrow.

"That suit you seem so fond of wearing," Anna explained. "I still like it, but I hope to see you in something different for a change."

* * *

It had never occurred to her that she looked out of place.

In the middle of all the glitz and glamour, Hanako stood out from the fancy sports cars and classy resorts as would a dead fly in a bowl of soup.

A big, smelly, hungry dead fly in a loud, lit up bowl of soup.

In a different moment, in a different time and place, this would be considered embarrassing even for her. Right now, pain and desperation take priority over everything save for caution.

Fumbling against the walls while trying to put up with the pain, Hanako kept herself out of sight and crept through the shadows. She wasn't sure she would even find anything within the refuse, especially given how unbelievably sterile these buildings seem to be. On the other hand, even the nicest places always have their trash.

She fumbled her way towards a dumpster and sulked against it. Hanako considered the idea of finding something within all that garbage, as disgusting as it may be. As bothersome as her hunger was, however, a part of her told her that rummaging through literal trash wasn't really the best of ideas. That, and she was more in need of rest due to the pins and needles in her sides.

With little else to do, Hanako pushed herself away from the dumpster and slumped against the wall. That act alone made her wince.

"Ugh…" she grimaced, adjusting her position on the concrete floor. One agonizing second later, she managed to keep herself sitting in an upright position with little discomfort. Though most of her experiences were between the lab and the fragmented memories of the voices living inside of her, Hanako did decide on one thing that was of her own.

She decided right then and there that any kind of pain was bad.

Keeping herself as still as possible, her eyes fluttered as she slowly drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

"Not bad at all," Anna complimented on her outfit.

"Does that mean it meets your approval?" Kazuya asked, though more out of politeness than seeking any sort of approval from the otherwise picky brunette.

Anna couldn't resist running her gloved fingers along the seams of her red, silk evening gown, admiring the patterns stitched into the fabric, and the shimmering rhinestones strewn elegantly at the front. It was form fitting, hugging and accentuating her curves, yet felt loose and comfortable while worn.

"I admit, I'm impressed," she said, crossing her smooth legs to admire the custom made heels that came with the dress. "You certainly know how to make a woman feel like a queen."

"As I had told you, I like my women with class," he said.

"Sometimes I wonder if you even understood the meaning of the word," Anna murmured, pulling a small compact from her purse, popped it open, and examining herself on the mirror. Even now, she was still stunned at the reflection looking back at her. No longer wearing her signature bob cut, the fringe was parted and styled over to the side, revealing more of her forehead, while the back of her hair was brushed up and tied into a bun on the right side of her head. This had the effect of exposing her right ear, which was decorated with a long, sparkling earring dangling from her earlobe. The added makeup accentuated her smooth features with added color to her eyes, cheeks, and lips.

As much as Anna took pride in her beauty, even now she marveled at how stunning she looked, barely even recognizing herself in the reflection. Kudos to the stylist, she thought.

"Put your mirror away," Kazuya interrupted, "We have arrived."

Anna closed the compact and pouted. "Why are you always so mean to me?"

Kazuya, as usual, ignored her whining and looked out the window as the limousine pulled to a stop.

Peaking from her vantage point, the glitter of lights and night life made Anna forget about Kazuya's brusque behavior. A giggle escaped from her lips as the brunette tried to contain her excitement. Kazuya adjusted the sleeves of his suit, while Anna patted her hair and pulled on her v-line.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"You bet I am," the brunette winked.

The limousine door opened, and like a pair of movie stars, Kazuya and Anna stepped out and strolled to the entrance of the restaurant.

* * *

Hanako slowly opened her eyes as consciousness returned.

The first thing she noticed was the fact she was no longer staring at the sky, but rather a dimly lit ceiling.

The second thing she noticed were the sounds of voices nearby…

Startled, the woman quickly shot up from her prone position, and nearly let out a yelp as pain shot through her torso. Hanako hugged her sides, nearly collapsing to the ground while gingerly trying to sooth the pain.

As difficult as it was to bare the pain, more distressing were the bars before her…

"No…" she whimpered.

Cursing herself for letting her guard down, Hanako crawled to the bars like an injured animal in panic. Fumbling her hands against the metal, it was all she could do to keep herself from screaming as she banged her hands against the enclosure.

* * *

This was a battle of attrition.

Anna's ability to yammer non-stop versus Kazuya's ability to completely ignore her.

If anyone was a betting man in this situation, even mighty devils can only take so much. Nevertheless, the former G-Corporation CEO managed to last the 'beating' from the ever verbose brunette. Of course, it still amazed him that someone as addle brained as Anna can spew so much garbage out of those luscious lips.

"Kazuya?"

It also helped to have a minor distraction to keep his attention away from the so-called conversation.

"Hello? Kazuya?"

For instance, strawberry blonde hair…

"Kazuya? Are you listening?"

Emerald green eyes, and a tight, sexy blue dress…

"Kazuya!"

"Hm? No, the dress does not make you look fat."

That remark made Anna steamed.

"You weren't even listening, were you?" she snapped.

"Not a single word," he admitted flatly. "I assure you still, the dress does not make you look fat."

Anna gaped at his response. "You're lucky that I'm having a good time," she said, putting on a cheery disposition. "If it was any other man, I'd have him put in traction for months while feeding off a straw."

"I should count myself lucky," Kazuya replied smartly, taking a small sip of wine from his glass.

"Unfortunately," Anna rolled her eyes. "Well, since my conversation about Tom and Jerry bores you to death," she continued, picking on the food in her plate with a fork, "how about you telling me how you managed to find a place like this, let alone set up date so quickly. Starting with this 'deal' you have going with… Jean, I think? Or is that one of those Mishima trade secrets you keep telling me about?"

"More like a very long story," Kazuya smirked. He set his wine glass down and folded his hands. "Still, I can indulge you a little, if it will at least keep your mouth shut."

"Again, traction for months, drinking with a straw," Anna reminded.

"Simply put, this establishment would not be running today if it weren't for my intervention," he explained. "Years ago, this place was mostly a dump, and on the verge of being shut down. There were a litany of reasons, both financially and legally speaking, but the point is that the owner, Jean, was down to his last leg."

"So what did you see in this place that made you oh so charitable?" the brunette asked with a twinkle in her eye.

"I wasn't," he answered matter-of-fact. "We simply bumped into each other one day and he practically begged me for help."

"Ah, of course."

"Initially, I could care less about his fate," he continued. "However, after pestering me for so long, I decided to at least visit his establishment. More importantly, given the legal threats he had, I had a look at precisely what his business was all about."

"Oh?"

"It was rather… pathetic," he shrugged. "However, in the end, I found some use for Jean's business, thus I intervened. This place thrived because of me. Even now, I still have my hand in this establishment, lest he ever tried to double cross me. The list of favors he has is a long one."

"How do you still manage to keep tabs on this place?"

"_That_ is a Mishima trade secret."

"Interesting. And, exactly, what is this business that this 'Jean' is into?"

Kazuya's eyes subtlety shifted from Anna to the blonde in the blue dress. Watching the woman walk out of the dining area, he returned his attention to the younger Williams sister, adjusted himself on his seat and crossed his leg. "If you wish to know, finish your meal and I will show you."

* * *

"Let me go…. please… let me go…" Hanako pleaded repeatedly to her captors, grasping the bars firmly.

No response, save for the continued chatter nearby.

The woman shifted her golden eyes frantically and banged her hands against the bars. "Let me go, let me go!" she shrieked, grasping the bars once again and shaking them in futility.

"Shut up, *****!" a voice yelled out.

"Let me go!" she repeated.

"I said shut up!" the voice demanded again, the patience already thin.

Her sides hurt, yet the fear of imprisonment overwhelmed her other senses. "Let me go! Please… let me go…" Hanako continued, on the verge of bursting into sobs as she pleaded.

Collapsing to the floor and out of breath, there was a moment of silence. Then, she heard the sound of footsteps approach her enclosure. Looking up from the ground, Hanako could not make out the features of her apparent captor from outside of the cage, partially due to the tears blurring her vision. A couple of things she did manage to observe from her point of view: one, the man looked huge, monstrous even. And number two, she sensed hostility from his posture.

The cage door opened, and the burly giant stepped into the enclosure with a baton in his hand. This did not bode well for Hanako…

"Stupid little whore!" the guard kicked the woman by the ribs, sending her sprawling to the far wall.

Hanako cried out in pain, clutching at her ribs while huddling in the corner from the verbal lashings and the physical torment. In spite of her pleas, no relief was found as her captor continued to kick her over and over.

* * *

Compared to the rich scenery that was the dining area, the money behind the restaurant was a more rowdy, unforgiving place as Anna quickly discovered.

"You were right," Anna muttered to Kazuya. "This is rather pathetic. Amateurish, to be blunt."

"Yet it still brings money to the business amongst its other ventures," Kazuya stated, his eyes absentmindedly wandering towards the blonde in the blue dress as he explained. "Besides, with the Iron Fist tournament coming up, shows like these serve to whet the appetite."

The business that the former G-Corporation CEO was referring to, amidst the loud chorus of cheers from the restaurant patrons, was a small ring in the middle of a pseudo-stadium setting surrounded by a steel mesh. Within that mesh, two men were locked in a raw, no-holds barred match of brawn and savagery, much to the delight of the customers. Though crude by Kazuya's and Anna's standards, the crowd still reveled in both the matches and the betting.

"I suppose it's great the people are enjoying themselves," Anna shrugged, just as one of the fighters managed to knock out his opponent flat on his back, eliciting a chorus of 'oohs' and 'ahhs'. "You said this was 'money to the business amongst its other ventures', did you not?" she observed.

"And you are probably going to ask what these 'other ventures' are," Kazuya interjected. Anna's silence was all the confirmation he needed to know he was correct, to which he flashed the brunette a devilish grin.

* * *

"I said shut your mouth, *****!" the guard exclaimed repeatedly as he continued his assault on Hanako. His voice was a mixture of anger and sadistic pleasure, enjoying the power he had over the whimpering woman under his heel.

Hanako could only muster a gurgle, unable to move, unable to even muster a single voice. She desperately wanted to cry out for help, yet she also realized that within the confines of her imprisonment, no one would come to her aid.

As the guard continued his torment over the woman, onlookers watched the beating with mixed reactions. Some of the other guards watched with morbid fascination. Other guards merely wrote it off as another one of those 'fits' and shrugged it off. Some of the prisoners watched with horror at the brutality displayed. The rest of the prisoners tried their hardest to ignore the violence.

Meanwhile, Hanako stopped moving altogether. In fact, if the guard even paid close attention, Hanako stopped breathing altogether.

* * *

"What!" Anna reacted in disbelief.

"Precisely," Kazuya merely shrugged.

"I know you're not a saint, but you support this!" the brunette nearly shouted, as the crowd roared with approval in the background. A new match ensued, and already their favorite fighter managed to get the upper hand over his hapless opponent.

"G-Corporation would need human subjects from time to time," Kazuya explained plainly. "For all his failings, Jean's business does provide a convenient source for human trade within the city, thus the support." The crowd roared yet again as the opponents below exchanged blows, beating each other to a bloody pulp. "They're also the source of entertainment you see down below."

Anna suddenly felt nauseous.

"You're speechless," Kazuya remarked.

Before Anna could voice any further objections, Kazuya suddenly disappeared from her sight.

And the crowd roared once more.

* * *

The burly guard grabbed Hanako by the scruff of her neck and lifted her head up.

"Pathetic," the guard spat, and slammed her head to the ground.

"Joey, I think she's dead," one of the other guards observed with disinterest.

"Nah, just fainted," the guard named 'Joey' replied. "Just slap her a bit and she'll be alright."

"That's what you said the last time," remarked another guard. "Besides, this one ain't breathing."

"Relax," Joey assured, turning Hanako over. "She's fine. Didn't hit her that hard."

"Remember what the boss said the last time you killed over of them merchandise."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Joey muttered, and began slapping the woman's face. "Hey! Get up, *****!" The burly man continued slapping the woman, each slap harder than the last. "Hey! You making me look bad here!"

"Idiot never learns, does he?" another guard chuckled.

"Hey, shut up, mother*******!" Turning his attention back to Hanako, he continued his taunts while striking the seemingly lifeless woman. "Little *****, wake up!" Patience thinning, Joey began kicking the woman's head.

"Gee, that'll wake her up."

"Hey, I told you to shut up!" Joey snapped. Holding Hanako by the collar, he violently shook her while spewing profanities in her face. "You better not be sleeping there, little whore!" he threatened. "I will rip that pretty little face of yours if you don't open your eyes. Get up, ****!"

Suddenly, Hanako's golden orbs opened. The last thing Joey saw was her hand on his wrist, and the most devilishly alluring smile he'd ever seen.

* * *

Avoiding the leers of some of the male patrons, Anna pushed her way through the crowd in search of her employer.

" – a woman like you doing in a place like this?" Anna heard him say within the chorus of cheers and boos.

"Oh, an associate of mine… 'convinced' me to come to this place," Anna heard a reply, this one a distinctly feminine tone.

"And you agreed to this?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

The brunette stomped her way towards the voices, shoving away the tangled mess of limbs, while Kazuya and the mystery voice continued their exchange back and forth. The moment Anna found Kazuya, she was quite vexed. Jabs, insults, the Irishwoman could take. Competition, nothing new for the brunette, especially in regards to her older sister. To be blown away, however, that stung.

Especially over a pretty little thing in a blue dress.

* * *

The door to Hanako's cell exploded, and with it the massive corpse of the man once known as 'Joey'.

The neighboring prisoners huddled at the corner of their cells in complete panic, while the other guards drew out their pistols, shouting at the top of their lungs.

Meanwhile, enveloped in an aura of purple malice, Hanako took her first step out of her imprisonment. Eyes aglow with golden power, the woman turned her head and stared at the muzzles of every pistol pointed at her.

"Don't move or we'll shoot!" one of the guards shouted.

Hanako maintained a blank expression on her face. Inwardly, all she could do was laugh with the other voices in her mind. The woman ignored the warning and took another step.

The guards open fired.

* * *

"It's a shame," Kazuya continued, showing not even a hint of concern over the angry brunette. "Someone of your expertise would have been useful for my – "

"Kazuya!" Anna snapped.

"Anna, good of you to join us," Kazuya smiled. "I would like you to meet – "

"You're Anna Williams!" the blonde woman shrieked, much to the confusion of the brunette.

"Uh, yes I am – "

"Oh my gosh, you look gorgeous!" the woman shrieked again, grabbing Anna's hand and shaking it excitedly. "I've read so much about you!"

"Thanks, I think…"

"You look so much prettier in real life!"

"Ow…" Anna winced, feeling the circulation from her hand cut off from the blonde's 'handshake'. "You… you've got quite a grip."

"That's what all the men tell me," the woman winked.

The innuendo in her statement did not escape Anna one bit. "Smooth…" she thought.

* * *

The bodies piled quickly as Hanako avoided the bullets and knocked each guard into submission with ease. The voices chanted in her head in unison, demanding blood to be spilled.

The rest of the guards scurried like chickens with their heads cut off, unable to stop this 'monstrosity'. One of the panic-stricken guards reached out for the alarm. As he reached over with his hand, in a blink of an eye, he felt his arm snap. Moments later, pain registered and he screamed in agony before his world turned black around him.

Power coursed through Hanako's body, imbuing her with more and more strength. Whatever pain she had felt before had since vanished. All that was left was to punish those who had imprisoned her here…

* * *

"It's a fascinating subject, really," the blonde woman continued her conversation. "I have studied genetics for virtually… all my life, yet for all our advancements in science, there's always something new to discover, wouldn't you agree?"

Below, another match had begun, and yet again the two gladiators exchanged blows, fighting for both pride and their lives.

"I concur," Kazuya nodded. "Humanity has barely scratched the surface even after countless generations of study."

"Yes," the woman agreed. "I also can't help but think that sometimes we limit ourselves so much."

The audience cheered as one of the fighters delivered a kick to the head of his opponent, sending him staggering. Anna could care less about either the match, or the conversation.

"Human minds can only comprehend so much," Kazuya said, seemingly matching the woman's fascination. "Our own science is limited since we put so many limits on ourselves."

"I couldn't agree more," the blonde chirped. The woman's eyes narrowed leeringly at the former G-Corporation CEO, and gave him the sweetest smile humanly possible (while Anna wanted to gag in the background). "Ruthless as you may be, my boss speaks quite highly of you," she said, looking Kazuya up and down. "I think I begin to understand why."

"Oh, you can't be serious," Anna muttered under her breath.

It was then that the crowd suddenly became morbidly silent. The brunette looked at the crowd's reaction, and followed their shocked gazes towards the ring. Bodies flew in the air, though not from the fighters themselves, who by then had already stepped out of the cage and left. Bullets were fired, some managing to hit the upper decks though none of the audience was hurt. Most bizarre, however, was the source of the commotion: a slim, pale young woman with raven black hair and golden eyes fought her way through these men towards the middle of the ring with little effort.

"Holy…" Anna gaped before she could finish her train of thought.

Kazuya merely watched the scene with his usual demeanor, though the twinkle in his crimson eye betrayed a small hint of interest. "Purple body paint," he muttered.

And as for the blonde woman in the blue dress, her expression was even more out of place. Rather than shock and bewilderment, a wicked smile formed on her face, exhibiting a look of… fascination? Pride? No, even beyond that…

"I never thought I'd find you here," the woman mused, her cheery demeanor completely transformed into an even toned, obsessive personality.

"You know this woman?" Anna asked in disbelief.

"Of course," the blonde simply replied. "I am, after all, her doctor."

"Her doctor?"

"Oh, yes, excuse my manners," the blonde replied. "I never even introduced myself." Reaching into her purse, the woman pulled out a pair of glasses, and casually put them on. "I am Dr. Kalina Romov. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."


	10. Stage 9

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 9_

In another part of town, Jin Kazama sat in the waiting room patiently, leaning on the chair's armrest as he watched the doctors and nurses pass by. According to the doctors, the diagnosis was good. In spite of the wounds inflicted, Nina would make a full recovery and be on her feet very soon.

Just in time for the Iron Fist Tournament.

The Irish woman was a tough individual to say the least. Nina had seen it all over the years as an assassin and bodyguard. Still, Jin was worried about her condition given the amount of blood she had lost, along with the added shock from his attacks. Three days later, however, one could hardly notice she fought tooth and claw with a demon.

Yes, Nina was a very tough individual. It also helped, of course, that Jin still had connections to the best physicians in the world.

While the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO pondered these things in his mind, a doctor walked over to where he was sitting and greeted him courteously.

"How is she doing, Tanaka?" Jin asked.

"Miss Williams is doing just fine, Mr. Kazama," the doctor replied happily. "It will still be a couple more days before we can finally remove some of those stitches, but she is otherwise fully recovered. She is quite the woman."

Jin smiled slightly and nodded in agreement. "You have my thanks, Tanaka."

"Nonsense," the doctor shook his head. "If it were not for you, I wouldn't be a doctor in the first place. You have my gratitude."

Jin patted Dr. Tanaka on his shoulder and chuckled. "We've had this discussion too many times," he said. "Let us cut this short before it becomes an hour long debate."

"I couldn't agree more," Dr. Tanaka replied. "Your friend is waiting to see you, and she is tired of seeing my face."

* * *

"Finally," Nina groaned, buttoning up her jacket.

"Tanaka just needed to be sure you're alright, that's all," Jin assured the blonde woman.

"I've been fine the moment you carted me in this forsaken place," she muttered. "No offence to you, doc."

"None taken," Dr. Tanaka shrugged. "I get that a lot."

"I'm sure you do," Nina said.

Dr. Tanaka could only smile. "I will leave you two alone," he said, and walked out of the patient's room, shutting the door behind as he left.

Jin watched while Nina continued to get dressed, waiting for the right moment to speak. "Are you alright?" he finally asked.

"Like I told the doctor, I'm fine," she replied evenly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Nina sighed out of annoyance. "Please, give me some credit here. I am tougher than the average human being."

"Maybe so, but you are still a human being," Jin said.

Nina looked at her employer with a perplexed look. "And what exactly does that mean?"

"It means…" Jin's voice trailed off. He looked away from Nina for a brief moment, choosing his words carefully. "Even the toughest man…" his words trailed off again.

"Yes, I get it, I still bleed and die like the rest," Nina finished his thought with a snort. "Just so you know, I've been in these life and death situations well before you were born. I may be a 'mere' human, but I can still take care of myself."

"I'm not saying you can't – "

"So, while your concerns are touching, you don't need to worry about me," she continued, and walked towards the door. As her hand reached over and grabbed the handle, the blonde woman paused on front of the door and lowered her head. "Besides… you're the one I'm more worried about," she uttered.

Before Jin could reply, Nina opened the door and left the room.

* * *

The ride back home was mostly quiet.

Though both managed to make some small talk to break the monotony of silence, Jin and Nina found it difficult to speak to each other throughout the entire trip. While Jin never outright said it, Nina knew he was still feeling guilty for putting her in the hospital in the first place. It didn't take a genius or a mind reader to figure that one out; the blonde assassin could read it in his expression.

"I need some air," she suddenly told him.

Immediately, Jin pulled the car up to a curb and stopped. Nina opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle, inhaling the crisp, cool air into her lungs. Jin also stepped out of the vehicle, though kept his distance from the Irish woman.

"Ahh… nothing like fresh, toxic, polluted air to make you feel alive, don't you think?" Nina joked.

Jin chuckled quietly at her humor, but said nothing otherwise.

The Irish woman turned and smiled back. "And here I thought you lost the ability to laugh," she said.

"I'm glad you're in good spirits," he replied. "Truth be told, I was worried over the past few days."

"Like I couldn't tell."

"Well…" Jin scratched the back of his head. "I just wanted to say…"

"No need to say anything," Nina interrupted. "As I said the very first day you brought me to that doctor of yours, I completely understand."

"Do you really?"

"No, not really," she sighed. "Nitpicking aside, you weren't in control of yourself, and that's all I needed to know."

Jin was at a loss for words. He wasn't too sure how to take her response, save to hang his head down in shame. It still amazed him how quickly Nina can forgive him, especially given her usual temperament.

"Seriously, stop that," she chided. "Every time you pull that expression, I get all gloomy and depressed. After that, I get worried you'd pull something stupid not too far into the near future. After that, I want to go punch furry little animals. I like furry little animals. I'd rather not go punch furry little animals. Please let it go."

"So I guess getting you that stuffed grey cat was a bad idea…" Jin pondered jokingly.

"No, don't you dare touch my little Tom," Nina pointed at him. "Jerry, you may burn, but don't you dare touch Tom!"

"But I thought the mouse was kind of cute – "

"Uh-uh… don't you dare say that!" Nina waved her finger. "Don't you ever say such blasphemy, especially in front of Tom! Poor kitty gets abused by that mouse…"

"Fine, fine," Jin laughed and waved his hands in mock surrender. "I won't touch your cat – "

"His name is Tom."

"And I won't say anything bad about… uh… _Tom_ no more," he quickly corrected himself. "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic," Nina grinned. "Aw, you're laughing," she added with enthusiasm, swaying like a child as she spoke. "You're happy again. Now I don't have to go punch furry little animals."

The former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO smiled back, feeling some of the tension being lifted from his shoulders. "I'd like to remain outside for a little longer," he said. "You take the car back."

Nina's enthusiasm evaporated. "Tell me you're not going to do something stupid," she said with a look of worry in her face.

"For the sake of the furry little animals, I won't," Jin assured her. "I just need some time alone, that's all."

"Are you sure?" Nina folded her arms across her chest.

"Yes, I am sure," he answered.

"You better," she huffed, and, shutting the passenger side door, stomped over to the driver's side door. "And you better hurry back. I'd rather not be stuck by myself with either Kazuya or that stupid minx."

"You won't need to worry about that," Jin pointed out. "Apparently they're out for the night on some sort of… date, I guess," he shrugged.

"Wait – what?" Nina gasped. "They… he… she… never mind." The Silent Assassin stepped into the car and shut the door. Rolling the window down, she added, "Just get back home when you're done. Call me if you need a lift."

"Yes, mother," Jin rolled his eyes.

Nina scoffed at the remark, and drove off.

* * *

"Alright, what just happened here?" Anna muttered to no one in particular.

Dusting herself off (while crying inwardly at the ruined dress), the brunette managed to prop herself into a sitting position and looked around. Even after the dust settled, it was pandemonium all over. Many people in the crowd managed to escape the carnage, yet several people still remained. As far as Anna could tell, no one was seriously injured save for a small handful of 'suits' and 'uniforms' (which she found utterly tacky), yet there was a sizable number of people that laid unconscious on the ground, while the rest were either screaming or running for their lives or both.

"Anna," a voice called out her name.

The brunette looked around, trying to pinpoint the direction of the voice. "Kazuya?" she answered.

A strong hand quickly reached out and, grabbing her firmly by the arm, hoisted her back on her feet. She appreciated the gesture, even if it was a little on the rough side.

"Thanks," she said.

"You're welcome," Kazuya replied. "This… wasn't what I had in mind for our night out," he added. Anna could almost swear he sounded apologetic, though he would deny it, of course.

"At least it was exciting," she laughed. Anna then looked at her ruined outfit. "The dress…"

"Don't worry about the dress," he told her. "We must leave here at once."

"You don't have to tell me," Anna agreed. As Kazuya escorted her out, Anna turned to look back at the tangled web of bodies and what was once left of the ring below. At second glance, the damage looked far more extensive than she initially thought. She felt a tinge of regret for leaving the panic-stricken audience behind, and even felt some remorse for the owner of the establishment, albeit a fleeting one.

What ran rampantly through her mind, however, was the vision of that ghastly woman who caused the entire ruckus in the first place, and could only imagine what she would do now that she was no longer confined to the restaurant.

* * *

Hanako drifted out from the rear of restaurant menacingly, and darted through the shadows.

_Where is she?_

Her eyes darted quickly, searching out her prey while ignoring the onlookers. For several minutes, her prey somehow managed to keep her distance away from Hanako, well out of reach to be captured, yet still within sight to be followed. Finally, Hanako was lead into a secluded area of the neighborhood, away from the bustle of people and lights.

"Hanako," a voice called out to her.

Hanako's golden eyes snapped to attention at the sound of her name. The woman (along with every voice in her head) seethed at the sight standing before her.

"I missed you," Kalina, still clad in her elegant blue dress, smiled proudly at her 'creation'. "We were all worried about you." Dr. Romov then narrowed her eyes and leaned her head slightly forward. "Do you remember who I am?"

"You…" Hanako started to breathe heavily.

"So you do remember me," the doctor answered, her eyes locked straight into Hanako's golden orbs.

"Monster…"

"Now, Hanako," Dr. Romov shook her head. "It's not nice to insult others… especially since I was the one who gave you life."

Flushed with retribution, Hanako took a step towards her tormenter.

"By the way, Hanako…" Kalina said, not looking the least bit intimidated by the other woman's threatening demeanor.

As the doctor spoke those very words, Hanako was mere inches from Kalina. Just as she was about to deliver a punch to the doctor's face, something grabbed her by the arm. Hanako jerked her head around, and gazed directly into a pair of glowing red beads. A massive, mechanical hand enveloped much of her forearm, holding her back in a vice-like grip.

"…do you also remember Jack?" Kalina finished her sentence.

* * *

Jin stumbled in his footing as he suddenly felt a hot, searing pain burn through his mind.

"Ah!" he yelped, holding his hand over his face.

If it was any consolation, the Iron Fist champion was prepared for these sudden bouts. It still hurt like hell, but he was better prepared for it.

Bracing himself, Jin steadied his breathing, attempting to regain some semblance of composure without stirring the suspicion of onlookers, and, leaning over a fence, began to meditate. As it was before, Jin began hearing thoughts and distant voices in his head.

_Hanako is in trouble_, he thought.

Another wave of 'pressure' threatened to unhinge his focus, yet Jin stood steadfast and (barely) kept his composure as he continued to meditate quietly. It had been long since he meditated like this. Born of the Kazama bloodline, this was a technique passed down from one family member to another. To be able to focus his mind, body, and spirit, to heed the call of nature, to find balance within his emotions in order to achieve a certain balance.

Something along those lines anyways.

To say he was out of practice would be an understatement. This was a teaching that eluded him even while living in the forests of Yakushima as a youth.

_Focus… breathe…_

Jin was glad that he sent Nina away. The last thing he needed was another berserk frenzy in his demonic form and have Nina take the brunt of it again. As for his current predicament, he knew that at any moment, his mind would fray from the stress, and it wouldn't be long till he loses control again. He had to act fast, yet he didn't know quite where to start.

* * *

Hanako managed to cross her arms on front of her just in time as Jack threw a punch at her. The resulting blow sent the woman flying backwards, her balance barely maintained from the impact.

"Remember, Jack," Kalina reminded the android, "you are supposed to capture her alive, not beat her to a bloody pulp. Failure to abide by this order will result in the… termination of your dearly beloved. Do you understand?"

The giant glared at the scientist with contempt burning in his eyes. The memory of his defeat remained vivid in his memory banks, including the fact that the woman before him spared his life despite having the droid at her mercy. For whatever reason, Hanako suddenly just ran off, leaving the android behind to rot in the sewers. Now, he intends to make that woman pay for her mistake…

"Do you understand?" the doctor repeated.

Jack kept his gaze on the doctor and let out an audible growl. A second or two later, he turned away from the scientist and focused his attention back on Hanako. Jane's life was at stake, and his failure to capture the demon spawn the last time would have been very costly. If Jack believed in such a thing as fate, the android had no intention of tempting it again. Suffice to say, as much as he hated being threatened by that puny little scientist, it would be in both their best interests to obey her commands and capture Soleil's pet project.

As though reading his thoughts, Kalina nodded her head and said, "Good." The doctor stepped back to allow Jack to do his work. "Having said all of that," Kalina twirled a lock of her hair on her finger, "I don't mind if you bring Hanako back with _some_ cuts and bruises. After all, she has been a naughty girl."

Jack's gears whirred to life, indicating the android's approval. Punching his massive fists together, the massive giant approached the woman, ready to exact his own brand of retribution.

Hanako seethed and raised her arms in response. Purple energy irradiated profusely from her body as the voices in her head chanted as one. First, she would deal with that annoying metal man, then she would kill that monster once and for all. Afterwards, she would deal with the rest of the scientists and engineers by way of a quick death; they were merely pawns of that wretched doctor. After that, she would face Soleil's master…

* * *

Sitting comfortably in his office, the master could only smile as Kalina reported that she found Hanako, and was on the verge of reclaiming her.

After several half-hearted attempts by his agents, he had no intention of letting her slip away again.

"Mr. Ishida," his voice boomed.

"Yes, master."

"Summon Qiquiang and send that monk to assist the android," he ordered. "Have the Special Forces placed on standby until further notice." As an afterthought, he added, "Also, prepare my limousine."

"You intend to be there as well?" Kyuuto timidly asked.

The master smiled at the businessman behind the shadows, sending shivers down Kyuuto's spine.

"Right away, master," he bowed.

As he watched Kyuuto leave, the president of Soleil Inc. paused, tapping his index finger on the polished table in thought. The reclamation and completion of Hanako would be the beginning of his glorious rebirth. But before such a rebirth could begin, he had some loose ends to deal with... some of them to be dealt with personally. Finally, he reached his hand for the phone, dialed the number, and held the receiver of his ear.

"It is time."

* * *

Jin wasn't sure where he was going. All he knew for certain was that his legs suddenly had a life of their own and insisted that he go _that _

way.

He just hoped that wherever _that_ way lead him would somehow help to make those annoying migraines go away…

* * *

Hanako swayed to the side and gritted her teeth as Jack's right fist barely missed her head. Before the droid's arm reached full extension, Jack quickly swung his arm into a chopping motion, catching the woman off guard as she quickly fell to the ground from the blow. Her reflexes saved her from taking the full brunt of the attack, though she still wasn't quick enough to completely move out of the way.

_He's gotten stronger…_ one of the voices said.

_What do we do?_

_What we do best…_ was the seething reply.

Grunting, the woman rolled to the side moments before Jack delivered a mighty stomp. The pavement cracked under his strength. Not letting up, Jack pivoted his body towards the woman and, taking advantage of his superior reach, swung his arms low with continuous lefts and rights, tracking her movement as he attacked. Though sluggish in appearance, Hanako was forced on the defensive as his arms kept her from approaching the droid and mounting any decent offense.

_CRUNCH!_

Getting too overzealous, Jack accidentally punched a hole through the ground, causing his arm to be momentarily stuck. Seizing that moment, Hanako jumped onto his prone arm, ran along the length of the limb, and, flipping into the air, spun around and delivered a kick to the back of his head. For someone as lithe as Hanako, the force of impact was strong enough to send Jack crashing forward with a thud. With her opponent grounded, Hanako mounted the android and delivered a series of punches to the head.

Meanwhile, Kalina watched the battle from the background, her face devoid of expression save for the sparkle in her eyes as she took mental notes of the fight.

"She has started to figure out her abilities," she observed. "Even with the modifications to Jack's construction, Hanako is holding him back. Still…"

A pair of open palms suddenly stopped Hanako's fists in their tracks. Such was the advantage of having rotors for wrists, double jointed elbows, and fully rotating gears for shoulders.

And a fully rotatable neck as Jack spun his head around and glared at the woman on his back.

"She has much to learn," Kalina concluded.

With a loud boom, Jack's arms recoiled like a pair cannons, sending Hanako tumbling into the air and crashing into a wall. Shaking his head, the android slowly lifted himself back on his feet. Equally shaken as the droid from the impact, Hanako quickly scrambled back on her feet, purple energy lancing from her body. She glared viciously at the android, and was about to pounce…

That was when she heard some chanting, only not from the voices in her head…

"Ah!" she gasped, clutching her head tightly.

That was when the pain struck her.

* * *

"Kazuya, what's wrong?" Anna asked.

The former G-Corporation CEO stared absentmindedly at the sky, appearing rather oblivious to his surroundings.

"Kazuya?"

At the second call of his name, Kazuya's attention snapped back to the brunette. In a smooth motion, he stretched out his hand to open the door to the limousine, and, with his other hand held gently onto Anna's own, escorted the Irish woman into the vehicle.

"Nothing," he replied. "Nothing at all."

"How good of you to join us, Qiquiang," Kalina greeted politely.

* * *

Appearing behind the scientist, a man stepped forth from the night and made his quiet presence known.

From the numerous cracks and crags that formed the features of his wizened face, he was an elderly man, one who had seen and lived through life as few had ever experienced. His movements were calm, quiet, as serene as the expression he wore on his face, the only sound audible was the set of prayer beads wrapped around his neck. His eyes gave off a gentle warmth of peace and tranquility. His long, gray beard and carefully shaved scalp accentuated the serenity of his face. His attire was both simple, yet elegant, mainly featuring a long, flowing gray robe wrapped gracefully around his body, a pair of gray slacks with socks reaching up to his knees, and a pair of small, black soles. A typical uniform of a monk, save for one small feature: a pair of rings with a set of 'beams' irradiating outward.

The emblem of Soleil Inc.

Qiquiang calmly stood next to the doctor and her greeting with a kind, respectful bow of his head.

"Hanako has yet to discover the full extent of her abilities, but she is getting stronger the longer she uses them," Kalina told him. "We need to subdue her quickly."

The man smiled pleasantly and bowed his head. Raising his right hand to his face, he closed his eyes momentarily in concentration and began to chant.

That was when the pain struck her.

No longer did the voices in Hanako's head worked in unison. Every personality in her mind splintered, howling in pain, bickering amongst each other, shattering the woman's sanity bit by bit. The shock to the system was more unbearable than usual, causing her to hurl dry heaves.

"Looks excruciating," Kalina remarked with a raised brow.

The monk merely continued his spell. His tranquil eyes opened and sparkled with enlightenment. His expression was awash with serenity. His voice, low, yet calm and melodious.

"Ugh… stop… please…" Hanako rasped.

Her quiet please merely fell on deaf ears as Qiquiang chanted with more gusto.

Meanwhile, Jack quietly lumbered towards the pathetic woman on the ground. Though none too pleased with the monk's timely interference, the android decided completing his mission was of higher priority, at least for the moment, and grudgingly welcomed the assistance. Eyes burning with intensity, the android towered over the woman and stretched out his hands.

* * *

Jin tripped on his feet as another flash of searing hot pain hit him. He fumbled in the dark, crawling on his hands and knees, biting his tongue to keep himself from screaming.

Covering his face with his hands, he felt the brands on his face burn across his forehead as he slowly felt himself transform…

* * *

Hanako, noticing the giant's approach, barely managed to scramble back on her feet, though the chanting from the monk and the intense pain in her head kept her feet off balance. With the woman now standing, the android lazily threw a quick jab with his left fist, to which Hanako blocked the attack with both hands with great difficulty. Midsection vulnerable, Jack immediately followed the move with a right hand to the gut, causing the woman to double over.

Unable to fight back, the woman could do little else but watch as the mighty giant spun on his heel and connected with a roundhouse kick to her head. Her already exploding migraine was made exponentially worse as Hanako felt the voices cry out in a seemingly unending chorus of agony.

"Easy, Jack," Kalina chided the droid. "I don't want her brain damaged."

Hanako flailed on her arms, struggling to get back onto her feet. Unable to fully keep her concentration, she just as quickly lost her footing and clumsily fell on her rump.

The giant walked over to the woman and looked down at her. No brain damage, not a problem. Grabbing the woman with his left hand, he pumped his right arm rapidly like a piston and threw four successive blows to the abdomen. Small trickles of blood dripped from the edges of Hanako's lips.

Pulling the woman by her hair, Jack raised his hand and delivered a quick, weak (by Jack's standards) chop to the neck, immediately knocking her unconscious. At that moment, the monk gradually brought his chant to an end.

"Collar her," Dr. Romov ordered.

Still holding Hanako by the hair, the android covered the woman's neck with his right hand, and, through a hidden compartment within his massive palm, wrapped a collar around her neck with an audible click.

Qiquiang merely watched with an amicable smile. That benevolent grin, however, gradually faded.

"What's wrong?" the scientist asked.

Qiquiang slowly turned his head behind them. What he saw nearly caused the usually calm and collected monk to jump from his spot. He raised his arms up in a fighting posture, prepared to defend both the scientist and himself.

Jack, after restraining the woman's powers, looked up towards Dr. Romov and Qiquiang's direction. The shocked look of the monk (at least by Qiquiang's standards) indicated the presence of danger. What his optics discovered was much worse than he thought, and the droid, holding Hanako's body with one arm, drew out his gatling guns from his forearm.

Even the typically unflappable Kalina gasped as a pair of demonic eyes gazed back at her…

"Oof!"

…followed by the dull thud as Jin's body skidded to a halt right in front of the doctor's feet. Appearing from behind the darkness, a sinister figure, more demon than human, strode towards the scientist and the monk, his gaze still locked onto the fallen Jin.

"That… was unexpected," the doctor said.

While the monk relaxed slightly from the doctor's words, the android still kept a bead on the shadowy figure, prepared to fire if things took a turn for the worst.

"Ugh…" Jin gnashed his teeth.

The demon, however, looked unfazed.

"You might want to step away from that runt," the shadowy figure replied. Then, straightening himself, added, "It seems you do not need any assistance after all."

"Not in the capture anyways," Kalina said, calmly distancing herself from Jin as recommended. The monk followed suit and backed away from Jin's beaten body, maintaining a defensive poise. The scientist narrowed her eyes curiously. "Why are you here?"

The demon smiled at android, then averted his gaze to the scientist.

"It should be obvious," Kazuya replied. "Your master sent for me here… to ensure your mission would be a success."


	11. Stage 10

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Interlude_

"This is crazy…" Marshall Law muttered to himself.

Just when things had finally settled down, especially given the state of the economy, the venerable chef and master practitioner of Jeet Kune Do suddenly found himself in the middle of a mob in his restaurant.

Not that being surrounded by an angry mob was new. There was always that odd man or two who, for whatever reason, would have a bone or ten to pick on. The reasons varied: money, revenge, anger, he looked at them funny, the food tasted like crap. Somehow, for the one or two whom want to pick a fight with Marshall, ten or twenty would want to join in. The result of such fights always ended up the same: they get beaten up, the restaurant would become an utter mess. Sometimes his son, Forrest, would get involved, not that Marshall needed any help, though having his son watching his back was still quite welcome.

This time, however, was going to be different.

Several men in uniforms all armed to the teeth.

Oooh, ahh… _not_.

If they intend to take on Marshall Law with such 'tiny' numbers, they might as well pack up and go home. To prove that point, Marshall quickly took out the uniforms at once, disarming them with the speed and ferocity of a wild animal.

_POW!_

_CRASH!_

When the Jeet Kune Do master was finished, he couldn't help but feel embarrassed for the so-called 'professionals' strewn around the kitchen that were still standing quaked in their boots. Marshall felt even more embarrassed for them.

The two hooded men, on the other hand…

One word to describe these men: cultish. Dressed in elegant white robes, faces covered in hoods, their presence redefine the definition of the word, 'fanatic'. On the surface, they seem utterly ridiculous, completely out of place from the soldiers. Yet, Marshall couldn't help shake that awkward feeling upon seeing those men… if he could even call them 'men'. What's more, something about this whole scene felt all too familiar to him. Perhaps it was all déjà vu.

Instincts told him to run, but his pride told him to fight. Besides, even if he wanted to run, all his exits were blocked by the two men.

"I hope my insurance will cover this," Marshall muttered to himself. Bouncing on his feet, he deftly swiped his nose with his thumb, and shuffled into his fighting stance. With left arm extended, he wiggled his fingers at the mob, beckoning them to attack.

"Bring it," he smiled confidently

The remaining uniforms raised their weapons at the 'fighting chef'. And the hooded men, surrounded by white aura, hovered towards Marshall, eyes ablaze with fiery white light.

* * *

"Christie, look out!" Eddy Gordo shouted to his aluno.

As he uttered those words, the rugged capoeirista managed to push his student out of the way and spun his right leg for a martelo, the roundhouse connecting to the head and knocking the armed uniform away.

"You alright?" he asked.

The dark skinned beauty didn't answer her teacher. Instead, planting her hands on the ground, Christie Monteiro flipped herself just passed Eddy into a perfectly executed aú, and snapped her leg out during the cartwheel to kick away another armed uniform away. Spinning on her hands with the grace of a butterfly, Christie snapped herself upright and turned to face her teacher proudly.

"I'm fine, thanks," she finally answered. "Are you alright, Eddy?"

Eddy smirked at Christie. "Thanks to you," he replied, playfully punching her on the shoulder, which elicited a giggle in response.

That celebration was short lived, as a pair of hooded men arrived on the scene. Two words came to Eddy's mind: ridiculous, and fanatic. Ridiculous, because they looked completely out of place with, as far as he was concerned, Halloween costumes. Fanatic, because only psychos and fanatics would dare dress up in such outfits in public.

That, plus the fact that they seemingly ignored the rest of their surroundings and set their sights only on the two capoeiristas for some odd reason. The gazes underneath their hoods sent chills down his spine.

"Stay close to me," he commanded his student, leaning protectively towards her as he spoke. Lowering his posture, Eddy resumed his ginga, planting his feet shoulder length apart and moving one foot back after the other, swinging his arms from front to side in relation to his feet.

The uniforms attacked first, to which Eddy dispatched each one with ease. A quick motion of his head, and another falls from a quick push from one of his frontal kicks. Another feint, and another goes down from a crescent. In a show of upper body strength, Eddy rolled into a handstand, and, walking with his hands, managed to block and kick his opponents' attacks. Then, rolling forward, swept his legs out like a gymnast to knock another uniform off his feet.

Eddy took a moment to peer behind his shoulder, and felt a small sense of relief as Christie also managed to do the same. Sometimes he wondered why he worried over her so much. After all, she was also the granddaughter of his mestre.

Eddy returned his focus back on his attackers, and that was when the robed men decided to join in on the fight. White aura crackled around both men as they hovered towards the capoeiristas and lashed out. As the formado discovered the hard way, following a quick dodge to the side, they were very quick.

And inhumanly flexible.

"****!" he swore under his breath, taking a punch that seemingly came out of nowhere. The robed man he fought managed to bend his elbow backwards and hit him in an otherwise impossible angle. He feinted, he dodged, and the robed men managed to keep up with his rhythm and put Eddy on the defensive.

"Ah!" Eddy heard a yelp. The scream distracted him just enough for the robed man to knee him in the abdomen, and knock him hard into the air with an uppercut. By the time Eddy landed, Christie was pushed down on her knees with a hand around her throat.

"No…" he whispered.

What horrified him, however, was the sight of one of the robed men seemingly, for lack of a better description, 'devouring' the life out of her as energy was practically sucked right out of her mouth, her body convulsed from the 'ritual'.

"Christie!"

_

* * *

Stage 10_

_Ask me the question._

_Go on, ask me. Don't be shy. You know you want to._

_What am I doing, you ask?_

_Why, that is a very good question. And just for asking, I will tell you the straight answer._

_No beating around the bush._

_So, uh… exactly what am I doing?_

_GETTING MY *** KICKED, THAT'S WHAT!_

(Takeda, what's happening!)

_I mean, I knew stealing from an armored truck with an army on its back wasn't going to be a walk in the park… Ugh… I probably should have listened to Minamoto and bought those charges elsewhere instead of that bargain basement dude, though I keep telling her that money was tight._

_Ditto with the – _

"Oof!"

…_harpoon._

"Ow…"

(Takeda, answer me!)

_She will probably be upset that I ended up trashing the SUV while playing chicken with that convoy. I don't think our insurance covers that kind of damage._

_Though probably not as pissed as the day I installed that camera in her shower… hehehe…_

_Uh oh…_

"Guh! Oof! Ack!"

(Takeda?)

_Ugh… **** me…_

_Seriously… all things considering… it wasn't so bad. Busted a few skulls (and knee caps), blew up a couple of cars, and managed to separate the armored truck away from its escorts… oh yeah, and… um… drop enough metal and concrete on top of it to short out its field._

_And all I got were a few burns out of that whole experience. Oh, and no one else got hurt… I think…_

(What's going on out there! I no longer have eyes on your position. Takeda?)

_Of course, nobody told me that someone else was going after that same truck as I was._

_Honestly… What the **** is this!_

_And that in itself wouldn't have been too bad, except – _

"Mwahahahahahahahaha!"

"Stop that! It makes you look insane when you do that!"

(Takeda!)

"And, Minamoto, quit screaming into the mic! I can hear you just fine, you know. Ow…"

(Takeda, what's happening? Are you alright?)

_I feel like I'm being reamed…_

_No, wait… I'd rather be reamed… in every orifice…_

…_by a donkey._

"I feel fine, Minamoto… taking a few… ugh… boots to the head aside… just… filthy… stinkin'… happy, happy, joy, joy, fin – oh ****…"

(What? Takeda, talk to me! What's happening! Who's attacking you!)

"Huh… zombie freak is about to – " _*cough*_ " – throw a truck at me. Heheh…"

(What!)

"I said, zombie freak is about to throw a big, ******* *** truck at – "

(I heard you the first time! Get out of there!)

"What do you think I'm trying to – "

"Weak little Manji ninja. Just like your old, ******* master."

_Oh, you did not just – _

"You did _not_ just say that!"

(Shut up and get out of there!)

"Hey, I am not letting 'walking dead' over there poke fun of our clan, especially our master!"

"Later, Manji *****!"

"Shut up, you… oh, right… truck…"

_*CRASH!*_

(Ta – _bzzzz…_ da… _bzzt-fzz-fzzzzt_! Tak – _fzz_ – da – _bzzzt… _!)

* * *

"So… tell me, Kazuya… what took you so long?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I was expecting you to stab me in the back a lot sooner," Jin grunted, wiping the moisture off the side of his lips. "What took you so long?"

Kazuya narrowed his eyes.

"As unbelievable as it may sound, it was not an easy decision to make," Kazuya growled at the thought.

"Huh… And you expect me to believe that?"

"No, boy, that's why I said it was unbelievable."

With that, Kazuya lunged and threw out his right fist. Jin quickly raised his arm to block the attack. Though still dazed from his father's earlier ambush, he was still lucid enough to defend himself.

"I am glad you were not injured too badly," Kazuya smirked at his son. "For a moment I was afraid my earlier attack might have been a little strong for you to handle."

Jin answered with a snarl.

"Nice to see you managed to recover, however," Kazuya added smartly. "It would have been boring otherwise."

"I'm glad to be keeping you entertained," Jin said through clenched teeth, and swung his right fist towards his father.

Kazuya blocked the attack and followed up with another punch. And again, Jin was able to block the attack. Back and forth, father and son went. Jin launched a right hook. Kazuya weaved and countered with a thrust of his arm. Jin parried and threw a series of punches and kicks. Kazuya blocked and countered with his own flurry of attacks. Jin managed to weave and block his father's combinations and swung his arm towards his head. At the same time, Kazuya also swung his right arm, likewise aimed squarely towards his son's head.

Both men managed to weave their heads to the side, allowing their blows to sail just mere inches from their faces. Both men swung their arms into a backhand. Both blocked each other's arms.

Jin momentarily averted his gaze elsewhere other than his father, the glint of concern clearly visible in his eyes.

Kazuya took that momentary lapse to for another attack. "Uh-uh, worry more about what I will do to you than what will happen to that girl," he taunted.

Stunned, Jin managed to put up his defenses just in time to block his father's fist, and immediately retaliated with another blow of his own. Kazuya, with a smirk, blocked the attack with ease.

Once more, both men exchanged punches, and both men locked arms. Both men spun around into a roundhouse kick. Both legs were stopped by each other's kicks. Both staggered from the impact, took a quick hop back, and thrusted their arms out for another blow. Both fists connected with each other with a resounding crash, sending both men skidding back.

Kazuya and Jin stepped back warily, measuring one another ever so diligently, poised to attack when the other makes a move.

"I am also glad you've healed rather nicely," Kazuya added. "This will be quite entertaining indeed."

Jin growled at his father, clenching his fists ever so tightly. Red lightning crackled around his arms as he stood prepared for another round.

"I don't know what deal they posed to you, but you better stay out of my way… or I will kill you like the animal that you are," Jin threatened.

Likewise, blue indigo lightning also crackled around Kazuya's arms.

"I am dying to see you try, boy," Kazuya looked at his son amused.

* * *

Jack held Hanako over his shoulders while Qiquiang silently kept a close watch over Kalina. The scientist was glad that she took Kazuya's advice to 'step away from that runt'. After all, Mishimas, even those in denial, were resilient. Jin Kazama perhaps encapsulates that statement best.

Another observation Kalina made: Mishimas were also stubborn. Case in point, Kazuya insisted on dealing with his son… _alone_.

"Jack," she called to the droid. "Make haste. Bring Hanako back to the company." The scientist looked back at where they had just left. "As much as I would like to put my confidence in Kazuya, I still don't trust him…" she turned back to Jack. "What are you waiting for?"

The android did as he was told, as the soft whirr of his anti-gravity jets hummed to life, lifting the massive giant into the air. Then, with a quick pulse of energy from his soles, Jack accelerated and flew to the skies towards the main headquarters of Soleil Inc.

At about that moment, Hanako's fingers wriggled.

* * *

Nina found herself in a bit of a bind.

Actually, less of a bind, more of an annoyance.

"What do you want from me?" she asked with hands raised.

She received no answer. A group of uniformed men in masks merely measured her silently and continued to hold the blonde assassin at gunpoint.

"Honestly, I have no time for games," she scowled. "Either put your little toys down and be on your merry way, or…" she paused, "I know another place you could point those things at… and trust me, when that happens, you won't be walking for days. Well, it's one option anyways."

No response.

"Well?" she asked impatiently.

None of the uniforms flinched at her threat. Their commander gestured to the rest of his men, and the soldiers moved into a defensive formation, completely surrounding the Irish woman.

Nina, as expected, was not amused.

She quickly scanned the area and scrutinized her opposition. She counted twelve armed soldiers, excluding the leader of the pack. All of them well trained and well versed in combat… supposedly. As for the area where they were standing, relatively wide open area with a little cover she could use, though there may be a possibility for more men lurking nearby.

In short, this was going to be too easy.

"Suit yourself," she sighed. With that, she sprang into action.

None of the uniforms knew what hit them.

With a loud yelp, Nina dashed towards the first uniform and, twisting his arm, flipped him over on to his back while simultaneously disarming him of his weapon. She immediately dashed to the next uniform and, twisting the gun from his hand, knocked him onto his back. With a pair of new firearms in her hand, Nina proceeded to open fire on the rest, downing three more uniforms in the process before the remaining eight gunmen, including the commander, finally reacted.

By the time they reacted, Nina had already gunned down another uniform and broke the arm of another. That was when the Silent Assassin ran for cover as the remaining uniforms opened fire. Bullets ricocheted off the pavement, missing only mere inches from her heel before reaching a car sitting idly nearby. The Irish woman quickly jumped onto the hood, slid across its metallic surface, and dove behind the vehicle just as several rounds ripped through the glass and left their marks on the chassis.

Meanwhile, back-up had arrived, and began pelting the hapless car with machinegun fire.

Momentarily protected, Nina checked her ammunition. Still plenty, she thought, though not enough to down all of them. Not that it mattered much.

Out of the corner of her eye, a couple of uniforms made an attempt to sneak up on the blonde woman while the rest poured heavy gunfire on her.

"Really?" she rolled her eyes, and shot them both without a second thought. "You're gonna have to do better than that."

One of the uniformed men tossed a grenade over the car. The small, compact explosive rolled along the car's rooftop and landed right next to the blonde.

"Bastards…"

Nina leapt away from the vehicle as the grenade exploded, the sheer energy tearing the car into burning shrapnel. The force of the explosion tossed the Irish woman several feet away from the fiery wreckage.

"I hope the car was insured," Nina muttered, dazed, yet managing to roll to her feet and sprint for cover before another hail of bullets landed on her spot.

The rest of the uniforms started to converge on her position. Checking her ammunition once more, the blonde assassin leaned against the wall, took a couple of short breaths, then bolted out with guns blazing.

* * *

"Give up?" Kazuya shook his head.

Jin, down on one knee, grunted in agony. Wiping the blood from his lips with his forearm, the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO leapt at his opponent.

Kazuya responded with a short uppercut with his right hand, knocking his son off his feet. Jin's body skidded hard on the ground before coming to a screeching halt. Lying on the ground, Jin barely managed to lift his head as he strained to get back on his feet.

"Pitiful," Kazuya spat, shaking his head with disappointment. "Even with your power being suppressed, even if you haven't fully recovered from your injuries, I expected a much better showing from you."

Jin's eyes shot up. "Suppressed?" he grunted.

Kazuya's expression remained hard and stoic. "Mere moments ago, you were on the verge of transforming when I found you, yet here you are still looking as foolish as ever."

Given how distracted he was, Jin admittedly didn't notice until Kazuya even pointed that fact out. In fact, it also explained why he didn't go berserk the first time when the android, Jack, ambushed the Williams, Jin, and Kazuya days ago.

Which then begged the question: "How… how are you doing this?"

The former G-Corporation CEO let out a slight grin.

"Now, boy, I can't be revealing to you all my secrets," he said. "Not yet anyways."

Jin finally got back on his feet, though his body still sagged slightly from the beating and his breathing was still ragged. "Was it around that time when you started prostituting yourself to Soleil?" he rasped.

"Hmm?"

"The first time you used that 'trick' on me."

The former G-Corporation CEO tilted his head bemused and crossed his arms.

"If it will ease your mind, no," Kazuya answered matter of fact. "I did not… _prostitute_ myself," Kazuya rolled the word in his tongue for emphasis. "My choice to _ally_ myself with Soleil, on the other hand, was a very recent decision I made, though the 'trick' I used to seal your power was a result of Soleil's research into the Devil Gene."

"And what about the scarf?" Jin glowered in an accusatory manner. "Was that a lie as well?"

Kazuya's grin vanished, yet gave him no answer.

"Tell me!" Jin exclaimed.

Kazuya glowered back at his irritable son. "Again… I can't be revealing to you all my secrets," he repeated his answer, this time with a hint of venom in his tone.

Jin straightened himself out and resumed his fighting stance. Red lightning crackled once more through his arms.

"I don't feel any sort of reassurance, what so ever," he said. "But thank you for your response," he added sarcastically.

"You're welcome," Kazuya replied likewise. He lunged towards his son with frightening speed, spinning on his heel for a kick aimed at the midsection.

Immediately, fighter's instincts clicked in, as Jin squared himself and lifted his arms, palms up, to his face. Red electricity crackled and flooded from his body, forming a near impenetrable field of chi around him.

This was a gamble on Jin's part. The ability to protect oneself through focusing of one's chi would make for both an unorthodox offence as well as a perfect defense, save for the inherent risks involved. For one, it required a degree of focus, one that could put him physically in a vulnerable position due to its relatively slow execution. For another, he could only maintain this 'electrical field' for a short duration, a second or two at best. As such, only on specific occasions could Jin possibly perform the move successfully…

…such as this particular moment.

Suddenly, Kazuya felt a shock jolt along his leg and spread throughout his body. Red lightning completely enveloped his entire body, lashing in every receptor to scream in pain before his senses grew numb. In his mind, Kazuya realized his error a little too late. The signs were there right in front of him, from the light crackle of energy lancing on his hands, to the accusation regarding the scarf. He was simply too distracted in his emotions to take notice.

In short, Jin managed to execute the move flawlessly, and Kazuya practically lunged right into it.

With Kazuya down on his knees, Jin returned the favor with a mighty kick of his own, launching him to the air towards a brick wall. Kazuya's body bounced with a sickening thud before collapsing face first into the pavement. When he came to, Kazuya staggered slowly back on his feet as Jin quietly made his approach. Now it was Jin's turn to stand over his father.

Kazuya had to admit, he was impressed.

Of course, now that Jin revealed his trick, Kazuya was not going to fall for that move twice.

"Hehehe…" Kazuya wheezed, wiping the blood from his lips with the back of his hand, barely able to contain himself in spite of the wounds he received. "That… is more like it!"

* * *

The ride back was rather uneventful, at least from Anna's point of view.

Of course, given all the excitement she had, both good and bad, a quiet, peaceful ride in the limousine was a nice change of pace.

Too bad for the dress, she thought. It was a rather nice outfit, and she had grown quite attached to it. Of course, her employer claimed that the dress, in spite being in disarray, can be salvaged. The same tailors who made the outfit were more than capable of mending it. Anna had to admit, she wasn't entirely sure whether he was telling the truth or bull******** to make her feel better. The damage to the fabric looked rather serious. Still, his assurances did make her feel at ease.

She smiled to herself.

"Even megalomaniacs know how to make a woman feel good," she sighed contently. She gently reclined back in her seat and looked out the window. Her mind wandered to the day's events, and for all the fun she had, she couldn't help but shake one little feeling…

"That bastard better not be chasing after that bimbo," she muttered.

That so-called scientist in a blue dress… Kazuya practically ditched her in that barbaric arena just to chat it up with that annoying blonde. The moment the brunette laid eyes on that woman, Anna had negative vibes about her. For one, it seemed awfully suspicious that a 'charming' lady such as her would end up in a place like that. For another, that really was a painful grip she had. The brunette was rather amazed at how much strength that woman had in just that right hand. Then there was the total personality change…

And jealousy had absolutely nothing to do with this.

Neither did the fact that the woman was quite smart, and looked absolutely stunning.

Nope, absolutely not.

She leaned against her hand and pouted. "Stupid… evil… sexy… doctor…" she yawned.

_THUNK!_

The limousine suddenly came to a complete stop, jolting Anna out of her reverie.

"What happened!" she demanded.

"Some… some guy walked in front of the car and... I hit him," the stunned driver explained. "He looked kind of drunk…"

Anna, in a huff, quickly stepped out of the limousine and stomped towards the front of the car. Sure enough, just as the driver described it, a man laid crumpled several feet away from the limo, still alive, yet clearly hurt. As the brunette trudged her way over, at first she wanted to give a piece of her mind. How dare that stupid drunk step in front of traffic? How dare he get himself run over by her ride of all things? How dare he add more misery to an already miserable night (even though moments ago it was actually a great night, but now that she feels angry thanks to Kazuya going skirt chasing over that scientist who so happens to be only slightly less good looking than Anna herself to which how dare he act like a typical man and how dare she act sexier than she really is, Anna also feels miserable, therefore it is now a miserable night)? How dare –

Her wayward thoughts stopped as she got a better look at the man. The man was definitely hurt, that much was for certain. From what she could see, however, most of the injuries he sustained were inflicted well before he got run over. Cuts, stab wounds, burn marks, bruises, almost as though the man had walked into a warzone and barely got out alive.

"Oh… ****…" the man groaned. "First living dead tosses a truck… then the two white robed ***** try to go all exorcists on my rectal orifice… this is not my night…"

"Easy there…" Anna said in a soothing voice, deciding to completely ignore his lewd statement. She turned the man over on his back to examine his wounds. Upon closer inspection, the injuries sustained looked rather gruesome, they weren't quite as severe as she initially thought. Much of the damage seemed to be absorbed by some kind of body armor he wore underneath his torn trench coat. Further examination revealed the armor to be a kind of exo-suit meant to augment its wearer. The addition of Japanese influenced decorum was perhaps meant to mimic those of an ancient samurai. Still, even with this fancy outfit, he was an absolute mess. "You are lucky to be alive."

"I had worse…" the man coughed. "I guess…"

Even further inspection revealed another important detail: he was cute. A bit on the frazzled side, and the choice of coloring his hair blue was a bit questionable, but all in all he was still pleasing to the eyes…

"Say…" he winced. "You sound… familiar…" he let out a cough as he spoke. "Where have I…" his eyes lit up as though he had a revelation. "Sleazy Sister in a Trashy Hotel!" he snapped, momentarily forgetting his wounds. "I knew I've seen you somewhere! Didn't recognize you in that hairdo, though… Anyways, loved the action! Never knew such a position was humanly possible…"

Anna's final analysis: he is a ******* moron.

* * *

Nina stomped her foot on the last uniform and grinded her heel into his wound for good measure.

Surveying the damage, all around her were the bodies of armed men beaten and bloodied along with twisted metal and charred concrete. The stench of smoke and flesh permeated through the air, the scene seemingly straight out of a movie, albeit dark and grisly.

As for the blonde herself, she hardly broke a sweat. The worst she got was a rip on her jacket and perhaps a little dirt from the rolling she did. It was just another day for the (not so) Silent Assassin in this night. With the 'threat' neutralized thoroughly, the Irish woman, not wanting to stick around any further, casually flicked a lock of her hair and went on her way.

Nina stopped in her tracks. Her keen sense of hearing alerted her to yet another man nearby. Correction, make that _two_ men, both dressed in long, white robes, both with their faces completely covered. Frustrated, Nina hung her head and sighed.

"I warned them," she began, gesturing towards the men in uniform laid to waste. "I gave them fair warning, and look what happened. I've got better things to do than step on a bunch of ants, so if you want your share of *** kicking, stop beating the bush and let's get this over with. Do we have a deal?"

As she turned around, a third man (or rather, a demon) cloaked in shadows suddenly appeared before her eyes. Nina could only stare wide-eyed in shock, not so much because someone managed to get so close without her noticing, but rather _who_ it was that stood before her.

"Deal," the master said with a sadistic grin.

* * *

Jin began to feel his body slowly, but surely tire out from fatigue. His health had recovered significantly during the week since Kazuya recovered him, yet it still wasn't at its peak. Jin knew it, and Kazuya most certainly was aware of it. In spite of their exchanges, both seemingly equal on the surface, Jin knew full well that his father was merely exerting enough strength to keep him away from Hanako. After all, Kazuya himself had yet to employ the full devastating arsenal of the Mishima Styled Karate.

"Give it up, boy," Kazuya taunted. "It was fun while it lasted, but our game must come to an end."

The former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO grunted and lunged at his father. Kazuya squared his body and telegraphed the attack a forward thrust of his right arm. Jin's fist was immediately parried, allowing Kazuya's own punch to sail past the arm and score a hit on the torso. Jin flew back from the blow, arms and legs flailing, and landed hard on his back.

"I shall give you one last chance," Kazuya gave his son a stern warning, advancing towards his soon-to-be-defeated opponent menacingly as he spoke. "Surrender, and I will let you live. Persist, and I will have to break you."

Jin let out a cough as he got back on his feet.

"Like hell that would ever happen…" his sentence was immediately cut off by a chop to the neck. Jin managed to move his head to avoid taking the full force of the chop, yet still flew to the ground from the attack's motion.

Kazuya continued his slow advance, glowering at his son with fists clenched.

Jin bounced back on his feet, and charged, feinting a low kick to the shins and followed with a jab and a hook. Kazuya barely even flinched from the kick, and telegraphed the punches perfectly, countering with a left and right punch of his own followed by a kick to the shins.

Jin staggered slightly from the blows, and blindly swung his right fist at his father. Kazuya caught the fist with his right hand and, with a snarl, snapped his legs across the left of Jin's face, whipping his body low to one side. Immediately, with his leg still held above the ground, snapped his leg back and connected his heel to the right of Jin's face, sending his son crashing to the ground.

As Jin staggered back to his feet, he suddenly felt a hand wrapped tightly around his throat.

"You were saying?" Kazuya sneered, lifting his son off his feet.

Jin clenched his teeth as his father's grip tightened. "Go to hell," he seethed.

"Already been there," Kazuya replied. "Any other intelligent words for me or shall we get back on topic?"

Though unable to muster the strength to break out of the hold, Jin stubbornly refused to give in to his Kazuya's demands. "Ugh… mark… my words…" Jin glared at his father threateningly. "You… will… die…"

Kazuya looked at his son with disgust. "Word of advice, boy," he began. "If you wish to insult or threaten someone, do so when you are at an advantageous position. Common sense would dictate that doing such would prevent the risk of you getting hurt from the… 'insultee', plus you would not come across as a stupid little whelp." The edge of Kazuya's lips curled into a snarl. "I cannot tell you how foolish you look spewing such… words while hung like a dog about to be slaughtered!" Kazuya slowly increased the pressure from his hands as he continued. "And the depressing part of it all is that this… isn't… the first… time!" Kazuya suddenly clamped his hand hard around Jin's throat, causing the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO to squirm in his grip. "It… annoys me to no end…"

Kazuya loosened his grip slightly, though still maintained a firm grasp around Jin's neck.

"Now, will you cooperate, or will I have to beat you further into submission?" he asked.

_Jin…_

At the sound of his name called out, Jin's eyes went wide with shock as though something or someone punched him in the gut.

"I… I think… I will take that advice… into consideration…" Jin managed to utter those words.

Kazuya's hardened yet confident expression melted as his hard fought advantage over Jin began to fade away with the all too familiar brands on his face.

"Let me say this once again," Devil Jin's voice boomed. "You… will… die!"


	12. Stage 11

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Interlude_

Lightning lanced from the heavens, illuminating the dark sky.

On this night, only one thing ran rampantly through his mind: that wasn't quite the ending Lee Chaolan had in mind.

He was the man known as the Silver Haired Devil, though he possessed no such gene. Orphaned and raised by Heihachi Mishima to eventually become the rival of Kazuya Mishima, Chaolan became both an accomplished businessman and an accomplished fighter in the ring. Through the hand of fate, Lee took those very talents and moved to the Bahamas where he eventually established a thriving company of his own.

For all the embarrassment and humiliation he went through in the past, especially regarding his adopted father and older brother, he was still successful in his endeavors and even managed to weather the storm that was the destruction of the Mishima Zaibatsu and the G-Corporation. Since the day he was born, Chaolan was a survivor, whether it be in the harsh streets, in the fighting ring, or in the financial district. If he was to go down, it most certainly would not be without a fight…

The silver haired man gingerly reached into his suit pocket with his left hand and pulled out a menthol. Placing the cigarette between his lips, he fumbled into his pocket once more, searching for a lighter.

The building was in complete disarray. Burnt papers, charred walls, overturned tables… and the stench of blood. His blood…

That really wasn't the ending he had in mind…

They took him by surprise… those men in white robes… he paid top dollar for security and they still managed to get the jump on him. And when he tried to fight back, those very same men systematically dismantled him piece by piece, exhibiting movement that was simply inhuman. Now, he found himself laid against the wall of one of his offices, his legs and right arm mangled, searching for that damned lighter…

Wait, never mind. He found it.

Hands shaken, and body in shock, Chaolan held the lighter as steady as he possibly could and, after two or three tries, lit the menthol. Dropping the lighter, he inhaled the smoke deeply into his lungs, feeling the tobacco soothing his body and calm his senses, if only for a little while.

Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine, overpowering the little warmth the menthol had afforded him. The robed men hovered ominously into the office, their very presence embodying the definition of death. Chaolan could only watch and smile as their white aura infected his very last refuge.

"Heh…" he chuckled as he reached into his pocket to pull out one last item: a detonator.

As the robed men watched, Chaolan allowed a moment of reminiscence to wash over him. Memories of the past, filled with a mix of images, colors, and smells filled his mind. Memories of the treatment from his foster father and brother, memories of the times spent hang gliding along the various rocky coasts, memories of the wine and women he spent… then there was Lars and Alisa…

_What a complicated story that was_, he thought.

Some memories were regrettable, some not so much… all in all, with the exception of this present moment, life wasn't too bad…

Weakened from further blood loss, the cigarette fell from his lips. Be it in the harsh streets, in the ring, even when the reaper is knocking on his door… Perhaps he would go down in a blaze of glory after all…

"Excellent," he smiled. With a flick of his thumb, he pushed the red button.

* * *

_Stage 11_

Lightning lanced from the heavens, illuminating the dark sky.

Takeda tentatively sat on the limo's soft leather seats while Anna tended to his injuries, wincing slightly from the brunette's touch.

"Hey, take it easy," he said between gritted teeth.

Scrunching her face, Anna wrapped another layer of bandages around his arm and, with a jerk of her hand, pulled on the wrap hard.

"****!" he cursed out loud and glared at the brunette. "What gives!"

"I am so sorry," Anna fluttered her eyes innocently at the blue haired man. "My hand got a little twitchy there and accidentally pulled just a wee bit too hard. Forgive me."

Takeda leered at the Irish woman. "Well, you can start by showing me the move you did with that guy in the hotel – ow-ow-ow-ow-OW!" he suddenly hollered as Anna squeezed her hand on one of his open wounds. "Safe word! Ow! Safe word! What was the safe word –"

_SMACK!_

"I'm sure that wasn't the safe word," Takeda rubbed his face.

Anna resisted the urge to grind her heel through the man's retinas, along with many other painful implements of torture she could come up with in her mind. Given her disgust at the lewd manner which the man addressed her, she counted upwards of three hundred, seventy nine methods of breaking his kneecaps within the last three minutes and thirty seven seconds alone. All of them involving stilettos.

Lightning lanced from the heavens, illuminating the dark sky.

Sensing the hostility in the woman's eyes (along with her fingernails digging hard into the upholstery), Takeda began to cringe fearfully. "Uh… forget I said anything," he gulped.

The brunette sighed and continued to bandage the man's wounds.

"By the way, I like your dress," the blue haired man leaned back on his seat comfortably. "What was the occasion?"

"None of your business," she replied. "And thank you."

"I see, I see," he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Expensive dress, million dollar makeover… not that you ever need one… riding high in a limo, I'm guessing hot date with Kazuya Mishima, probably at that Jean fellow's restaurant. Am I right?"

Anna's eyes went wide with surprise.

"Oh, and you're welcome," Takeda added.

Anna slowly met her eyes to his. "How did you know?"

Takeda smiled all too proudly and leaned his head forward until they were practically nose to nose with each other. "Lucky guess?" he smirked.

Anna scoffed and continued to dress his wounds.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey," he said. "I'm serious, it was a lucky guess. On the other hand, I do know quite a bit more about you and your employer than your average Joe."

"So it seems," she muttered.

"Fine, fine, stating the obvious," he rolled his eyes, sulking in his seat. "At least you aren't as dumb as your employer made you out to be…" he then murmured under his breath.

"Excuse me!"

"Nothing, nothing!" he waved his hands. "The point is, Kazuya and I, we are familiar with each other. He knows me, and I know him. We do business. I scratch his back, he scratches mine, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Ya know, that sort of thing."

"Huh…"

"Yeesh, what's with the attitude?" he raised an eyebrow. "You look like you've been dumped."

Anna bit her tongue, trying hard not to utter a single word that didn't involve four letter curse words. Good looking or not (and much to her dismay she still admired his handsome features), she couldn't help but want to punch him out a hundred times over, amongst many other implements of bodily harm. Kneecaps and shots to the groin included.

Meanwhile, Takeda resisted the urge to snicker. After all, she did take the time to stop and dress up his wounds while engaging him in a little conversation… if one can call that a conversation. Besides, after the pummeling he received, he was in no shape to deal with someone of the caliber of the 'Lightning Scarlet'. A very pissed off Lightning Scarlet.

"Again, forget I said anything," he shook his head bemused. "At any rate, I do thank you for your kindness," he said, while easing himself off the seat. "I would like to return the favor in kind someday…"

"Don't even bother," she snapped.

"Your loss…" Flexing his hand, he turned to Anna and said, "I will be speaking to your boss in the very near future, so I'm sure we will meet again. Meantime, at the risk of stating another obvious… be careful."

Anna crossed her arms on her chest dismissively.

"I don't think I need to explain that these are dangerous times," Takeda continued. "So take this to heart when I tell you to watch your back. Especially where Soleil Inc. is concerned." He looked at his feet and frowned. "And Kazuya. Most especially Kazuya."

Before Anna could respond to his cryptic warning, the blue haired man leapt to the air and disappeared into the night.

* * *

Lightning lanced from the heavens, illuminating the dark sky.

Having been the recipient of a grievous lashing, courtesy of his demonically possessed son, Kazuya laid prone on the ground, his once lavish suit torn and bloodied. As battered up as he looked, however, the former G-Corporation CEO was less concerned about his injuries, and more frustrated at the fact that he was even taken by surprise in the first place. The worst part of it all was that this was not the first time such a thing had happened. It infuriated him to no end.

No matter, infuriating or not, he had a job to do.

Picking himself back up and casually brushing the dirt off his worn out pants, Kazuya, stoic expression and all, parted his legs and raised his fists to his face.

Meanwhile, with body hunched over and arms dangling, Devil Jin menacingly eyed his prey. Just as it was before, all traces of humanity, traces of the man named Jin Kazama completely evaporated. In its place stood a wild, evil, bloodthirsty beast.

"Kazuya…"

Correction… a, wild, evil, _irritating_, bloodthirsty beast.

"Let me guess," Kazuya sneered. "You will either say to me 'die', or 'fear the wrath of god'. How am I doing so far?"

Lightning lanced from the heavens, illuminating the dark sky.

"Die!" Devil Jin exclaimed, and in a blink of an eye, appeared right in front of his father.

"Predictable as always," Kazuya sighed.

More fully prepared for his son's attack, Kazuya sidestepped to the left, avoiding Devil Jin's lash by mere inches. With his Devil Jin completely vulnerable, Kazuya grabbed his son by the horn and, with strength blessed by his Mishima heritage, lifted his son off his feet and slammed him to the ground.

Devil Jin landed on his back with a stunned look on his face, not so much from the impact, but rather from the fact that someone dared to resist him in the first place. How dare he resist a god.

With Devil Jin's mind still reeling, he staggered back on his feet, placing himself in yet another vulnerable position. Seizing that opportunity, Kazuya crouched low and, with right leg extended, spun clockwise along the ground into a 'Hell Sweep'. The kick struck Devil Jin by the legs, immediately snatching him off the ground, sending him to a short freefall. Without losing momentum, Kazuya spun along the ground a second time, this time throwing out his left arm. The fist caught the freefalling Devil Jin in the midsection with enough force to send him spiraling away.

Devil Jin skidded sickeningly on his back, the feathers on his smooth, black wings slightly ruffled, and his body came to a halt. His crimson eyes were filled with anger and bloodlust as he shot back onto his feet. Glaring at his father, who stood both poised and smug despite the deep gashes and bruises he received, only added fuel to his rage. Wiping the drizzle of saliva from the corner of his lips with his forearm, Devil Jin stretched out his wings and bellowed his terrible cry into the night sky.

Kazuya remained stoic and unshaken. The bloodstains on his shirt, however, gradually expanded, practically drenching much of his front.

Eyeing his father's blood, Devil Jin bared his teeth savagely, the muscles in his neck tensed. A second cry echoed to the air, demanding to the heavens the wretched life standing before him. Then, with a twitch of his talons and a flutter of his massive wings, hovered into the air, growling and thrashing with the ferocity of a rabid dog. With eyes narrowed at his prey, he descended from the sky with incredible speed with arms extended.

A blast of white light interrupted his death charge, halting Devil Jin in midair. The light singed one of his feathers, though otherwise the beam completely missed. With another loud bellow, Devil Jin flapped his wings and ascended to the sky. Bellow, an irritated Kazuya could only watch in befuddlement as he watched his son disappear into the night.

"Why did you interrupt?" Kazuya spoke in quiet demand.

Hovering through the shadows, a pair of men in white robes appeared in his peripheral, their faces hidden behind their hoods save for the white aura emanating from their eyes.

Kazuya turned his head towards the cloaked intruders, his once stoic face bristling with fury.

"I had him!" he exclaimed, clenching his fist as he spoke.

The robed men merely stood in silence.

"I had that runt within my grasp, and you dare interrupt!"

Again, the robed men watched Kazuya in silence.

"Puppets," he spat. "I would not expect much from mere puppets…"

If it was not one thing, it was another, and an already irritating night just became an utter aggravation. Composing himself, Kazuya walked towards the direction Devil Jin flew, ripping off his bloodied suit and throwing it to the ground. Blood and sweat glistened along his heavily scarred skin, fresh claw marks and gashes marred an otherwise perfect physique.

"I will be trailing that wretched spawn of mine," he continued. "Tell your… master… that I want no interruptions," he ordered.

Bright, indigo lightning crackled around his body as Kazuya's body started to undergo transformation. His bare skin became pale, the scars over his body, especially the one branded on his chest, changing into a purplish hue. Dark, wickedly curved talons sprouted forth from his fingers as well as his toes, shredding his leather dress shoes to pieces. A pair of curved horns protruded from the side of his head, his jet black hair ruffled and wild. Large, leathery bat-like wings sprouted from his back, fluttering to life in the veil of darkness, while a long, whip-like tail thrashed angrily on the ground. His eyes were completely colored in blood, matching the third eye in the middle of his forehead.

With the transformation complete, fully invigorated from the rush of unholy power, in place of a man stood a demon from the very bowels of hell itself.

"And another thing," Devil Kazuya boomed, his fingers twitching madly. "Tell your master that I will capture that little spawn before the night is over. Just as we agreed on."

And with a flap of his massive wings, Devil Kazuya took to the air and gave chase.

* * *

Lightning lanced from the heavens, illuminating the dark sky.

Nina limped sluggishly along the ground. Fumbling desperately on the concrete, her index finger managed to touch the handle of a machinegun dropped by one of the uniforms she had fought. A few meek swipes of her finger, the firearm budged ever so slightly as Nina pulled the weapon agonizingly into her hand.

Hovering behind the assassin, the master watched the Irish woman struggle for the weapon with mild amusement. An admirable attempt, he thought, but ultimately futile. Even if Nina did manage to grab hold of the firearm, it would do nothing to change the inevitable…

With the weapon firmly in her grasp, the Silent Assassin, exerting every ounce of strength she had left, spun her body around, and opened fire. She held the firearm tightly in her hands as though her life depended on it, her strength barely enough to absorb the recoil as she unloaded every round onto the master. The bullets hit their mark, tearing through the dark silhouette of the president and CEO of Soleil Inc. with white hot fury.

_CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!_

Lightning lanced from the heavens, illuminating the dark sky.

Nina stared at the looming silhouette before her aghast.

"Im… Impossible…" she gasped. Nina felt her hands grow numb as she dropped the now depleted machinegun with an audible clack. With the last ounce of strength used up, Nina collapsed on the ground in a heap as darkness enveloped her vision…

The master, unscathed even after receiving the entire clip of the firearm, beamed wickedly at the blonde. As he stared at Nina's crumpled body, the two robed men hovered towards the fallen Irish woman.

"No," the master ordered. "Not yet anyways."

The robed men obeyed and backed away from the blonde woman. Removing himself from the shadows, the master reached out and lifted the woman off her feet by the scruff of her jacket. The infamous Silent Assassin, a woman known worldwide as one of the most dangerous killers on the planet, was nothing more than mere refuse in the master's hands. His eyes stared coldly at the delicate features of her face.

"I may have use for you yet," he smirked.

* * *

Lightning lanced from the heavens, illuminating the dark sky.

Hanako found herself in an all too familiar position.

Imprisoned in a glass coffin, paralyzed against her will, frozen in time…

Though she had memories of the outside world, Hanako actually felt it for the first time. The sunshine on her face, the wind blowing through her hair, the rotting stench of the streets, the deplorable noise of traffic… for a few days, she had tasted that which was forbidden, and now she longed for more.

She wanted to smash the glass coffin, but her hands wouldn't obey. She wanted to run from her imprisonment, but her legs would not obey. She wanted to scream, but even her lips would not obey…

_No! No! No! No! No!_

It was unfair… it was so unfair! She had never asked for any of this, and yet here she was, sealed in that cursed dungeon once more…

There was nothing she could do… nothing at all… save that he would answer his call once again.

As she stared silently at her dark surroundings, a tear threatened to trickle down the side of her face…

* * *

Lightning lanced from the heavens, illuminating the dark sky.

Gliding through the dark sky, Devil Jin flew in towards the glittering high rise that is the main headquarters of Soleil Inc. He was barely able to sense the presence of Hanako as an unknown force seemed to have masked her presence from him. Still, in spite of that setback, that faint aura was enough for him to at least follow wherever that android took her, albeit slowly. That, and despite the fact his mind was rather clouded by bloodlust and sheer madness, a small semblance of humanity within directed the demonically possessed man to the obvious location she would be taken to. Of course, he still wasn't so certain _why_ he had to find her. All he knew was that he _had_ to find her.

And another thing his senses alerted him to…

"Jin Kazama!" Devil Kazuya hissed.

Devil Jin spun in midair and banked to his right, barely escaping a lancing beam of destructive light courtesy of his demonic father. For a brief moment, there was a look of astonishment in his expression, namely the fact that someone else not only interrupted his pursuit, but also the fact that someone else possessed _his_ power.

Hovering with his arms crossed, the one who gave him that very power warily watched over his offspring. Pity that he wasn't allowed to kill his son, though he took some measure of comfort knowing that he was only told to capture him alive. He was never told specifically in what condition.

"This is as far as you will go!" Devil Kazuya's voice echoed in declaration.

Devil Jin merely looked down at his father, bloodlust filling his eyes.

"Not that I expect an answer from you, but I will give you one last chance!" Devil Kazuya continued. "Will you come quietly or will I have to break you!"

Lightning lanced from the heavens, illuminating the dark sky.

Enveloped in a terrible red aura, Devil Jin breathed hysterically in deep gasps, eyeing the still fresh wounds on his father. Though looking nowhere as serious as before, purple blood still trickled from the cuts inflicted. Unable to contain himself, Devil Jin cried out to the sky and descended towards his prey.

Enveloped in a terrible blue aura, Devil Kazuya held his ground and braced himself.

Lightning lanced from the heavens, and the rain fell.

Devil Jin collided with Devil Kazuya in mid air. Devil Kazuya raised his arm to block Devil Jin's charge, though the strength and momentum still caused both demons to descend at an alarming speed towards the roof of a nearby high rise. Both demons hit the roof as a bolt of lightning simultaneously crackled in the night. The dust settled, and from the point of impact, Devil Kazuya and Devil Jin locked arms in a test of strength.

Lightning lanced from the heavens, and the downpour intensified.

Devil Kazuya, down on one knee, snarled angrily, holding his berserk son at bay with all his might while Devil Jin bared his weight down. Droplets of water glistened on their skin as the rain kept falling from the sky.

With a loud roar, Devil Kazuya redoubled his efforts and slowly lifted himself back onto his feet. Then, with a hard shove, he pushed his son away, sending him back several feet. With a flutter of his raven black wings, Devil Jin skidded on his feet and came to a complete halt.

Growling under his throat, Devil Kazuya glowered at his offspring, baring his canines at him. Likewise, Devil Jin growled at his progenitor, baring razor sharp teeth of his own. In the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO's mind, amidst all the noise, only one word resonated loudly to him…

_Kill!_

Devil Kazuya raised his arm at his son, and threw a surge of telekinetic energy at him. The force shattered much of the surroundings, kicking up dust in its wake, yet Devil Jin held his arms in defense, blocking the incoming shockwave with brute strength. Red lightning crackled around his eyes as Devil Jin immediately lowered his arms and fired a bolt of light at his father. Devil Kazuya sidestepped the volatile surge of power, the radiant beam of light destroying the concrete and girders instead.

Lightning lanced from the heavens, the downpour continued, and the roar of thunder shook the earth.

Several minutes had passed, and the exchange went on.

Devil Kazuya spread his leather wings and hovered mere inches as he avoided another barrage of energy from his son. Viscous purple liquid slowly oozed from his wounds, mixing with the water droplets on his skin. With another flap of his wings, he made a bee line towards Devil Jin, instantly closing the gap between the combatants.

Devil Jin flapped his wings and dashed back, avoiding his father's fist by mere inches.

Pressing his momentum, Devil Kazuya lunged forward in an attempt to rip his son with his claws. Again, Devil Jin dodged the attack, followed by another back dash to avoid yet another swipe, then quickly ascended back to the air.

Devil Kazuya stopped in his tracks and glowered upwards.

Lightning lanced from the heavens, the downpour continued, and the earth quaked under its power.

Devil Kazuya blinked through the droplets of water and wiped the wetness off his face with a swipe of his forearm. Devil Jin let out a roar which caused even the building to shake from his voice.

"I will enjoy watching you squirm like the worm you are," Devil Kazuya hissed.

Devil Jin folded his wings and, with his right hand held back, dived towards his father. Devil Kazuya hopped back, avoiding Devil Jin's fist as the foundation cracked upon impact. Devil Kazuya leapt to the air and extended his left leg into a flying kick. Devil Jin blocked the attack as the impact pushed him back, then began to swipe at his father madly.

Devil Kazuya avoided the swipes easily enough, and launched into a flurry of punches of his own. Devil Jin avoided the blows, blocking and parrying each move with superhuman reflexes. As Devil Jin was too preoccupied with Devil Kazuya's fists, the former G-Corporation CEO used that opportunity to lash out with his tail.

Devil Jin staggered back, barely avoiding the lash from the appendage. Off balanced and vulnerable, Devil Kazuya aimed low and landed a fist to the ribcage. Again, Devil Jin staggered back from the blow, momentarily stunned by the pain. Devil Kazuya pressed forward, blue lightning laced his left arm as he took a decisive step forward and, crouching low, leapt high with his left arm fully extended into a 'Thunder God Fist'. The leaping uppercut connected with Devil Jin's jaw, snapping his head back violently from the impact.

Lightning lanced from the heavens, the downpour continued, and the earth cried out in agony.

Momentum in Devil Kazuya's favor, as Devil Jin toppled back from the blow. At least, that was what he thought when Devil Jin suddenly spread his wings and, flipping in midair, managed to recover from the uppercut and land back on his feet. Not wasting any time, Devil Jin lunged at his father and toppled him down with a wild swipe of his right arm. The former G-Corporation CEO rolled back to his feet, stunned from the blow, leaving him open for his son to connect with a hard uppercut from his right hand.

Devil Kazuya felt himself lifted high into the air, the ascension made even higher as Devil Jin shot to the air, grabbed his father by the throat, and ascended further to the sky. Once the two combatants reached their apex, there was only one direction to go. With astounding speed and strength, Devil Jin slammed his father down to the concrete…

Lightning lanced from the heavens, the downpour continued, and the roof below suddenly gave.

Both Devil Kazuya and Devil Jin fell, taking the top floor with them. The dust settled, and Devil Kazuya found himself pinned by his demonic son, much to his dismay. His mind barely registered through the haze as Devil Kazuya felt the continuous impact of fists to his face.

_Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!_

In a wild frenzy, Devil Jin bellowed to the air, and wildly pounded on Devil Kazuya's face. Blood trickled and from Devil Kazuya's nose and lips.

_Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!_

The pounding continued non-stop, the voice in head urging him on, and Devil Jin was completely lost in his frenzy. Flurry after flurry of punches landed on Devil Kazuya's face, each one equally as brutal as the last.

From the gaping hole on the roof, lightning lanced from the heavens, and the rain trickled through.

Save for the twitching of his hands, Devil Kazuya did not move. He could not move. Though his devil form afforded him greater resilience, he could only take so much more punishment, and yet he could do nothing what so ever. With his previous wounds still not closed, Devil Kazuya felt himself start to drift…

Out of breath, Devil Jin's punches slowly wavered as he succumbed to his exhaustion. Beads of sweat trickled from his forehead, mixing with the water droplets from the rain. His voice was hoarse, his arms limp, his bloodlust could only take him so far even with the voice shouting in his head.

His pounding slowed, the weight of his fists grew lighter and lighter. Finally, unable to maintain his frenzy, Devil Jin stopped. Tired and light headed, Devil Jin hung his head low, barely able to keep himself up. Devil Kazuya's beaten and bruised head rolled limp to the side.

The downpour continued relentlessly.

Devil Jin's breathing finally stabilized, though he still felt limp after his almost ceaseless assault. Still feeling light headed, he lifted his hands and stared at his talons. He felt the crustiness of dried blood stains on his fingers as his hands twitched. The bloodlust triggered his frenzy once more, his expression now filled with what can only be described as elation.

A deep, insane form of elation…

Grabbing Devil Kazuya by the scruff of his hair with his left hand, Devil Jin slowly lifted his father's head, glaring at the bloodied face of his progenitor. He was still alive, though no longer in any position to defend himself.

The downpour trickled through the gaping hole.

His prey now at his mercy, Devil Jin stretched his talons of his right hand at his father's face. Then, pulling his right arm back, he jerked his arm forward, intending to run his talons through Devil Kazuya's face.

Lightning lanced from the heavens…

…and suddenly, Devil Jin felt his body thrown back as a powerful force of brilliant energy struck him off of his father. If Devil Jin had any semblance of rationality left in his mind, it felt like being hit by a speeding freight train and electrocuted at the same time.

_BOOM! CRASH!_

Devil Jin crashed through the wall, back out into the storm, and found himself smacked against the glass of yet another tower. His body shuddered and convulsed as snakes of electricity enveloped him.

Meanwhile, Devil Kazuya got back onto his feet. It was an act of desperation. He had poured everything into that one move to push his son off. As he could see, that one attack did more than simply push Devil Jin away. Devil Kazuya clutched his head with one of his talons, desperately trying to shake off the dizziness.

Lightning lanced from the heavens, the rain fell…

Soon after, Devil Jin's limp form went into freefall…

…the thunder roared…

"Great…" Devil Kazuya muttered under his breath.

Spreading his leathery wings, Devil Kazuya leapt from the building and flew after his son. The sound of the wind howled to his ears as he accelerated like a missile.

…and the earth shook from its might.

Devil Kazuya caught up to his son's limp body and wrapped his arms around him. Opening his wings, he felt his body jerk as the wind lifted him back to the air mere inches before hitting the pavement. The beating he took, however, left him unable to control his momentary ascent, causing him to careen too sharply to a wall. Both Devil Kazuya and Devil Jin hit the concrete with a resounding thud, and fell back down to the traffic bellow, smashing onto the roof of a parked car. Devil Kazuya bounced off the car and fell hard onto the road while Devil Jin toppled onto the sidewalk.

In mere moments, their visions became cloudy as a veil of darkness enveloped their eyes.

The storm began to settle, though the rain still fell…

* * *

Sleep.

Oh how Jin Kazama had longed for the stillness of absolute slumber.

Peace.

Tranquility.

"Wake up," Jin heard a voice say to him.

He winced in pain, his head still reeling from the fall he took from his battle against his father. In spite of his awkwardness, the voice sounded strangely familiar…

"Open your eyes, boy."

Recalling his initial meeting with his father only a few days ago, Jin willed his body to a sitting position… at least that was the intention, until he felt a force jerk at his wrists, restraining him back down. Jin uttered a curse under his breath as the pain in his head intensified ten-fold.

"No rush," the voice assured him. "I have all day."

Not wishing to tempt fate, Jin did not even batter a single eyelash until the pain subsided further.

"Who are you," Jin groaned, his eyes still shut as he spoke.

"I am the president and CEO of Soleil Inc.," the voice answered matter of fact. "Most refer to me simply as 'the master'. You, however… well, just open your eyes." A quiet chuckle escaped his throat. "I have to admit, you and your father caused quite a commotion. As grand as my company is, I don't have the same control over the media as you did with the Mishima Zaibatsu…"

Careful not to repeat the same mistake as before, Jin slowly opened his eyes. To his surprise, the room her was in was dimly lit, only a faint light source provided any illumination to the dank, dark walls of… whatever room he was in. He squinted his eyes, adjusting his vision to the lighting of the room. Looking at his risks, he discovered what was pinning him down: a pair of strong chains bound to his wrists and ankles, likely designed with an enchantment in them to suppress his devil gene. At least he had a comfortable mattress to lie on this time, he thought. Then he turned towards the silhouette standing over him…

…and burst into laughter.

"I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised," the master sighed. "Kazuya did the same thing when we met."

Jin couldn't even make a proper response. The only words that ran into his mind were, 'this has got to be a joke.' As far as he was concerned, it had to be. He hadn't seen this man for a year, and for very good reason. And yet, there he was, standing over him… fate played many cruel jokes in his life, but this one had to be the funniest…

That was when Nina entered the room.

"Nina…" Jin gasped.

The blonde didn't seem to acknowledge her employer. In fact, whatever semblance of personality she had, all of it completely vanished. Jin looked into her cold, listless eyes, eyes that was once energetic and full of life, and gaped with fright. He glared at the master angrily, yet found himself unable to utter a single syllable.

"Do not worry," the master said. "I merely suppressed her personality. Competent bodyguards are very difficult to find these days, and I have no use for a vegetable."

Jin could barely contain his anger, his arms tugging at his restraints to no avail.

"You are finally taking me seriously," the master mused. "I can only imagine what is running through that head of yours, but… aside from how I am still alive, or wishing to kill me… you are probably wondering what I want from you." The master rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Admittedly… not much, though your role is still important. First, as the reigning King of Iron Fist Champion, your presence in the upcoming tournament would be appreciated. And second, we have the issue with Hanako."

Jin's eyes went wide at the sound of her name.

"You have been a prickly thorn to the project," he continued. "However, it was through you that Hanako ended up as successful as she was. This, in spite of the collateral damage she had caused." The master leaned forward until their faces were mere inches apart. "You have furthered her success. You are the key. And for that…" the master turned away from Jin and walked away, "…you remain alive."

Without a word, Nina obediently followed her new master behind.

Finally, unable to contain himself anymore, Jin found the voice he so desperately needed…

"I'll kill you…" he rasped. Then, with added fury in his voice, "I'll kill you… Heihachi Mishima!"

Lightning lanced from the heavens, illuminating the dark sky…

The curtain falls, and the first act ends…


	13. Stage 12

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 12_

One day before the opening of the Iron Fist tournament, Jane laid peacefully in her bed while her guardian angel tried to muscle his way into her room.

The guards posted outside held Jack at gun point, threatening the droid with deadly force… as if their weapons were even a threat to begin with. If Jack was in a better mood, he would look at those guards, deduce that their attempts at blocking him would be both pitiful and illogical, and possibly laugh it off. Instead, he was angry, and now he wanted blood.

As the guards continued to cajole him, Jack lost his cool and, arming his gatling guns, raised his arms at them.

"What is going on?" a voice said from out of nowhere.

The android, gatling guns retracted and arms lowered, turned his head to the source of the voice, while the guards straightened themselves and saluted in response.

"Oh… it's you," Kalina said, staring at the android blankly.

"Sir – uh – madam!" one of the guards greeted the scientist. "We were – "

"Don't… even… bother…" the doctor raised her hand in disgust, reacting as though her intelligence had been insulted. "Return to your post… and let me handle this."

"But madam – "

The doctor glared at the guard with icy daggers in her eyes. Whatever color was left in the guard completely evaporated from his skin.

"Yes, madam."

The doctor quietly stepped in front of Jack, blocking his way, while the guards marched back to their posts as ordered. The android glared at the woman, his red eyes ablaze with fury, yet the scientist showed no hint of intimidation what so ever in spite of the fact she was not even half the android's size. Heck, she wasn't even much of a physical presence compared to the guards that tried to stop Jack, yet she talked them down like pups.

Now the woman was attempting to do the very same thing to the military droid himself. From the outside looking in, the scene was ludicrous. Jack would _love_ to hear what that puny woman had to say…

"Now, you must be wondering why you are not allowed to visit your precious little Jane," she stated matter of fact. "A fair question to ask."

Jack clenched his massive fist hard, finding her tone to be unbearably insufferable. All he needed was an excuse to crush the woman into pulp…

"Before you lose yourself, my large friend," she waggled her finger, "let me remind you… do anything stupid, and your girl dies." The scientist tapped her middle and index fingers casually on her chest. "Do you understand?"

Jack stopped short of planting his fist to her gut, sending the woman through the walls of the compound. Kalina smiled at the android.

"To answer that question which burns through your processors," she continued, "though you did prove instrumental in bringing Hanako back, your previous actions beforehand were rather, to put it very mildly, questionable."

Jack glowered at the scientist.

"Don't give me that look," she shook her head dismissively. "You of all 'people' know exactly what I'm talking about. Given your overall performance, especially with regards to Hanako and that hell spawn of Kazuya's, I'm surprised the master didn't take your woman off life support and send you to a scrap heap. Does anything I say so far compute, or should I elaborate?"

Bewildered, the android growled at Kalina, yet his body language indicated no denial from his previous actions.

"You are smarter than you look, I will give you that," she said, removing her glasses and wiping the lenses while the droid looked on. "In that case, I will simply remind you. You do your job, you may see your precious Jane again. You do otherwise, and there will be consequences. Until we see some improvement in your behavior, this room is now off limits. Master's orders."

One quick examination of her glasses, Kalina quietly placed the frame over her eyes, pushing the bridge along her nose with her finger.

"Don't you have a tournament to prepare for?" she reminded.

The servos in the cyborg's neck whirred as his gaze narrowed at the doctor's own. Within the trillions of fibrous networks and electrical impulses firing between his processors, after countless options (countless by human standards) followed by countless different calculations, variables, and probabilities, the android still could not shake the one question burning through his memory: was joining Soleil Inc. really the only option he had?

If he hated his option before, he hated it even more…

Gazing back at the giant, within the intricate network of neurons and electrical impulses firing in her brain, the scientist only had one simple thought: 'go… away…'

Jack straightened himself, taking a glance at Jane's room. Another thought fired through his processors, one that he most definitely assured himself as he made his way out: 'this is not over'.

* * *

"…_as detectives uncover more and more cases of mysterious disappearances, the latest one being founder and president of Violet Systems, Lee Chaolan, whose Bahamas estate was found destroyed in an apparent explosion."_

"_According to police, these sudden disappearances over the past two days mirror the events of the Ogre Incident, only seemingly at a much larger scale as reports of thousands more…"_

"Someone shut that off."

_bzzt!_

"Better?"

"Much better."

Takeda slumped uncomfortably on the couch, his hand absentmindedly scratching one of the bandages covering his wounds. Wincing from the pain, the blue haired man shifted in his seat and stared out the window.

"You seem to be in high spirits today," Minamoto noted.

"Can you tell?" Takeda sighed, visibly upset. "I only had my *** kicked by that psycho freak, nearly get fried by those costumed goons, and ended up losing the damn sword all in one night, I am definitely in what you call very high spirits today!" The blue haired man slammed his fist against the armrest, forgetting that his arm had yet to fully heal from the previous night. He yelped, nearly jumping from his seat, and rubbed his hand vigorously.

"Takeda…"

"****!" he swore. "I was so close… so… close!" he spat.

"Please, don't – "

"I was so close to the sword!" he repeated. "I can't believe I let that freak take it!"

"Neither of us foresaw this happening," Minamoto attempted to comfort him. "There wasn't anything you could have done."

"Indeed, I couldn't do anything," he replied, his voice trembling. "As usual, I couldn't do anything, except let the clan down…" The blue haired man began to sulk. "At least I got to meet 'Sleazy Lightning in a Limo', though she wasn't in much of a mood to play…"

"Who?"

"Nothing… nothing at all…" the blue haired man slouched, waving his hand derisively in the air before resting it back on the armrest again. Awkward silence followed.

Standing across from her partner, Minamoto contemplated what to say to clear the atmosphere. She had seen the normally jovial Takeda upset in the past, but never to such an extent as he is now. The tension in the room was practically suffocating, and if she didn't do something to alleviate the moodiness, Minamoto was afraid she would go insane. She hesitantly raised her hand towards Takeda, opening her mouth as if about to say something, then thought better of it and kept her lips sealed. More awkward silence followed…

"Would you care for some eggs?" she suddenly asked.

Takeda slowly turned his head from the window, raising an eyebrow at the woman's offer.

"What, you have to think about this?" Minamoto rolled her eyes. She quickly grabbed Takeda by the wrist and pulled him to his feet, taking care to avoid touching the lacerations on his hand. "Come on… I will pay for the meal."

* * *

"Lee Chaolan, Christie Monteiro, Eddy Gordo, Marshall Law along with a janitor… Armor King, Ganryu and some of his students, Michelle Chang… Craig Marduk along with a few unidentified MMA fighters… that fat bastard, Bob… (heh) and even the furry little animals… which brings us to a grand total of…"

"Too many to count," a weary Raven replied in his typical low, husky voice.

The dark skinned agent skimmed through the list of names on the screen again, the cross-shaped scar on his face visibly prominent as he scowled. Exhausted, Raven turned away from the monitor and rubbed his weary eyes.

"What do you make of this?"

Raven folded his hands and rested his chin while his eyes narrowed into slits.

"What else?" Raven answered dryly. "Nothing but history repeating itself, only somehow we seem to be ten steps behind." The agent turned his head back to the monitor and glowered at the screen. "During the past year, numerous people of all walks of life disappeared from under our noses by some unknown group for whatever purpose. No one really took notice initially since those disappearances weren't out of the ordinary save for some faint traces of radiation. Since said traces were too faint to be noticed without the most sensitive equipment, and because they were already written off as your typical missing persons story, no one even bothered to follow up on those activities. The added chaos from the destruction of G-Corporation and Mishima Zaibatsu also distracted the world from said activities in more ways than one, allowing said group to continue with these kidnappings without any interruption. And then, they pull this…"

Articles, headlines, and movie clips flashed across the screen with words ranging from 'kidnappings' to 'disappearances' to 'missing peoples', all of them pertaining specifically to various fighters from around the world, and all of them containing pictures of mysterious men clad in white robes and large hoods over their heads.

"We are living in good times, aren't we?"

Raven chuckled at the remark. "They are certainly not hiding from us no more."

"Though of all things, why would they suddenly reveal themselves? They could've kept their activities hidden and we probably still wouldn't find out, at least not for a long time."

The dark skinned agent lifted his head from his hands.

"In my personal experience, there are two reasons why you would suddenly make your activities known to the whole wide world," Raven surmised. "You are either very stupid, and I mean _very_ stupid, or you _want_ people to know what you've been doing… probably either because you need something… or because there's nothing anyone could do about it."

The agents in the room fell silent. Raven remained still as a statue as he glazed over the images on the screen. Hundreds upon hundreds of articles continued to appear on the screen showing the same news as before.

"So what do we do now?"

Raven lazily rubbed his chin, his eyes still scanning the articles and headlines. Finally, he stood up from his seat, placing a pair of armless shades over the bridge of his nose and covering his dark eyes.

"You will do nothing," he answered. From his pocket, Raven pulled out an envelope with an invitation inside. "I have a tournament to investigate… and a reunion with some old friends."

* * *

Lars Alexandersson sat quietly by the beach, watching the waves lazily trickle to the shore. A light, cool breeze caressed his face gently, blowing against his sandy brown hair, which was swept neatly along the sides and back into curved spikes.

It was a beautiful morning. Warm sunshine, blue skies, and a lush breeze. Birds flocked along the waters in search of food, while a few people took advantage of the weather to walk along the sand…

The Swede looked at his hands downcast. Like the rest of the world, he had heard the recent news on the disappearances of several fighters all over the globe… including Lee Chaolan. And upon hearing his name amongst the many other names in the list, he took the news hard.

The waves continued its rhythmic crash to the shore, licking against the white sand.

Lars had to admit, their 'partnership' was rather unusual during the best of times. Disagreements and even the occasional fight were not out of the ordinary, especially between a cool businessman like Chaolan and a seasoned soldier like Lars. In fact, not too long ago, both men clashed over a major contract that Violet Systems had championed, the details of said contract rather complicated, the conflict barely even remembered.

And yet, in spite of their differences, there exists a kinship between the two men. Several reasons kept their friendship strong, one being the fact that they were, well… _brothers_. Both were connected to the Mishimas through unusual circumstance, Chaolan as the foster son, and Lars as the illegitimate son. Both were highly trained fighters hardened through many battles. Both men were survivors, having lived through the harshness that life threw in their way.

Both eventually made names for themselves apart from their cursed Mishima heritage.

Lars picked up a small pebble and tossed it to the water. He almost chuckled at the thought of their first meeting, also starting off with the two men coming to blows. Eventually, however, both men, due to having a common enemy at the time, agreed to work together with Lars dealing with the proverbial trash, and the Silver Haired Devil handling the paperwork.

More than anything, it was through Chaolan that he also helped to repair and eventually reprogram the android, Alisa Bosconovitch, something the Swede was grateful for even to this day. Chaolan had insisted that his interested in repairing Alisa was solely for business purposes, and that the repairs were a way of repaying Lars for his assistance. Of course, the sweet, innocent, childlike personality of the android did make Chaolan feel some kind of affection towards her… plus he had to admit, artificial or not, she looked _fine_.

Even with chainsaws protruding from her arms.

_What are you looking at me like that? As I had said, the circuitry in her design is excellent. Any other interest I may have of her is purely of a designer's and business point of view. I mean, sure, she's cute, but when I say she looks fine… What are you gawking at me for? Hey, you are the one with the complex over the android, not – Miss Bosconovitch! Such excellent timing! How are you this fine day? Uh, and you… you didn't listen in on our conversation, right?_

Another bird swooped into the waves, dipped its head into the water for a morsel before flapping its wings and fluttered into the sky.

With the death of his second-in-command and best friend, Tougou, Lars had very few allies in his struggle, and even fewer friends. As quirky as their partnership and friendship had been over the last few years, it was still a friendship… a brotherhood that somehow kept the Swede grounded.

Lars fidgeted with his cell phone, staring at the numbers on its display.

It had been a while since he had spoken to his old team mates, the remnants of his Tekken Force unit. Given how much of his unit was massacred, including Tougou, he was pleasantly surprised to find few of them managing to not only survive, but also kept themselves hidden. Seems even his own men had some tricks up their sleeves…

Clenching the phone in his hand, he slowly got back on his feet, his expression filled with resolve.

* * *

"What the hell is going on!" Anna demanded for perhaps the one hundredth time amongst the many questions and demands she made within the last half hour.

_And what the hell am I doing talking him down!_ she thought to herself.

Kazuya kept his expression nonchalant, though deep down he was burning with annoyance. If he wasn't so injured as he was at this very moment, he would gladly slap the younger Williams sister off her feet. Though his body managed to heal quickly, courtesy of both his family and genetic heritage in his blood, his body still ached from even the slightest bit of exertion. So, he decided to endure Anna's tirade and save his strength… for now.

"We are leaving," he answered, also for perhaps the one hundredth time amongst the many answers and vague remarks he made within the last half hour. "And we are preparing for the tournament."

"Yes, and again, just like every other answer before, _obviously_!" she hollered. "Why are we leaving, where the hell did Jin go, and what happened to my sister!"

_Really, what am I doing?_ she asked herself.

The former G-Corporation CEO snarled at the brunette. "And why do you keep asking me these same questions?" Kazuya asked in a disgruntled voice.

"Because you never give me a straight answer!" Anna shouted in exasperation. "I've followed you faithfully, whether you were the CEO of some grand corporation, or a whiney little snot with deep pockets, never really questioning what you were up to so long as I had my little fun, and perhaps get some comeuppance with my dear _sister_," the word rumbled out of her throat with utter revulsion. "Now, however, things have changed! Without any warning, you practically signed your soul to that… that… twisted company, and then… First off, are you out of your mind!"

_Shut up, shut up, shut up…_ Anna repeated the words in her head, yet found herself unable to contain the words coming out of her throat.

Kazuya furrowed his dark brow. "And how is joining Soleil out of my mind?"

"You know exactly why!" she waved her finger at her employer. "You of all people know what those people are really like, and while you are not exactly innocent to begin with, especially the day you joined G-Corporation, even this is something I would never expect from you!"

"Please, clarify," Kazuya said mirthlessly.

Anna's face turned beet red as her blood reached the boiling point. "********!" she cursed. "Don't talk to me like I'm an idiot! You saw the news! You saw the names! And, my gosh, then we have Nina…" Anna waved her hands furiously. "What the hell happened to that psycho *****! I haven't seen her so out of it since that Ogre mind ****** her! Do you have any idea how hard I worked to un**** her mind!"

_Shut up, shut up, shut up…_

The brunette balled her fists, her emotions gushing forth as her lips continued to move. "I don't think you even know what you're doing! That's what scares me! And what of her! What of that innocent little white dove you fell for! I have no idea what she saw in you, but if she was still around, I doubt she'd be too happy to – "

His patience snapped, and without thinking, he suddenly found his hand wrapped tightly around the Irish woman's throat. Anna barely managed a gurgle as Kazuya tightened his vice-like grip.

_I told you to shut up!_ Anna berated herself. _Of all the things you could've said, why'd you have to go there!_

"You seem awfully bold these days," he remarked. "Typically, as irritating as you may get, you at least knew when to shut your mouth."

_I resent being referred to as irritating, but a good point otherwise…_

Anna gasped, struggling for air as the pressure around her neck gradually increased.

"Typically… as secretive as you may get… you don't usually keep me too much in the dark…" she mouthed the words out, her voice barely above a whisper.

_Really, what the bloody hell is wrong with me! Shut up already!_

"Is that so?" Kazuya sneered, pressing his arm down until Anna was on her knees.

The Irish woman gritted her teeth, defiantly looking straight into her employer's eyes in spite of her position.

_Great, I'm gonna die because of my big mouth!_

And that was when Kazuya released his grip. Immediately, Anna collapsed on the floor, taking deep gasps of air into her lungs. Her body trembled, her mind still reeling from the fact she was a mere seconds away from death. By the time she managed to pick herself up on her knees, Kazuya had already begun to walk away.

"Kazuya… I…" she whispered out his name.

The former G-Corporation CEO didn't pause in his step, didn't even look back. Expressionless, he made his exit out of the room, his mind ablaze with memories, pleasant and painful alike, of the one who drew close to him and looked into his soul.

* * *

_Jin Kazama, King of the Iron Fist, sat atop of his royal throne, looking over the populace from within his castle with cold, penetrating eyes._

_Standing below his royal throne, his knights in shining red armor saluted him while waving his flag upon their mechanical mounts. From beyond the walls, his admirers watched him with awe and adulation, bowing before him as their true savior. Captured, enslaved, and broken, his enemies could only tremble in fear, their souls resigned to their horrible fate._

_With a grand gesture, Jin stepped off his throne, and gradually walked down the steps towards his loyal subjects, his dark cape slowly fluttered by a sudden gust of imaginary wind._

_The knights stood at attention, watching their king saunter down the steps towards them. As Jin got closer, the knights slowly lowered their swords to the ground and knelt before him in humble adoration._

_The King of Iron Fist smiled at his servants, adoring the attention he received (perhaps a little too much, he thought)._

_The knights stood transfixed, watching their monarch drift down the steps to his subjects. As if on cue, they raised their fists in triumph, repeatedly chanting his name with gusto._

_And then everything was set ablaze._

_It started gradual at first. A small spark, a light flicker, hardly noticeable especially with all the chanting within the castle. Then, without any warning, one of the knights burst into flame. He flailed his arms, his screams piercing through the raucous noise of cheers and chants, yet no one noticed. Then a second knight burst into flame, the blaze equally as hot and intense as the first, dropping him down to his knees in hellish torment._

_Then a third…_

_Then a fourth…_

_Then a fifth…_

_One by one, each knight was set ablaze as Jin continued his stride, completely unperturbed by the sight. A diabolical expression formed on his well chiseled face._

_Then a twentieth…_

_Then a thirtieth…_

_Gradually, the markings of his devil heritage appeared on his face. The red jewel on his forehead sparkled from the reflection of the blaze, matching the glowing crimson of his now demonic eyes._

_Soon, every one of his subjects was set ablaze, their voices a cacophony of unbridled suffering. As he walked past his immolated subjects, his surroundings also burst into flame, starting with the walls of the castle, then spreading out further to the towns and the cities, leaving a trail of fire and acrid smoke in the air. Soon, admirer and enemy alike were caught in the blaze, their cries hitting a loud, high pitched crescendo that pierced through the heavens above._

_Devil Jin watched the spectacle before him with a silent glee._

_Standing in front of the massive window, he watched as cities crumbled, and all manner of life reduced to ash. Slowly, the very flames that enveloped his knights gradually licked his fine garments, eating away at the dark fabric, and searing at his skin. The castle shuddered as the flames slowly ate away at its foundation. Burning rock and concrete rained from the air, crashing through the once brilliant marble floor, leaving gaping holes and scorch marks in its wake. Soon, the rest of the castle crumbled, the foundation unable to hold its weight. Then the castle fell…_

…_and with it, Devil Jin, the King of Iron Fist, fell with it, his form completely ablaze, holding his arms wide open as if embracing his demise…_

…and he felt his body jump as Jin woke up in a cold sweat.

Vigorously, he rubbed his eyes in a vain attempt at erasing the images seared in his mind.

The scene made absolutely no sense… and yet somehow, he understood. Understood what, precisely, he wasn't all that sure.

"I am going insane…" he muttered under his breath.

He reached over to rub the back of his neck, and felt the cold, twisted collar wrapped snug around his throat. A small piece of insurance, he was told, so that he could walk around the compound without worry of his demon half triggered as opposed to being kept in chains. Though the ability to roam around the building gave him some measure of comfort, the idea of being collared like a rabid dog still didn't sit all too well with him.

He slowly edged himself to the edge of the bed, his bare skin glistened with sweat. Elbows perched on his knees, he buried his face in his hands.

Then, he felt a pair of slender arms wrap around his chest from behind.

Startled by the sudden contact, his head shot up, yet his body remained still as the delicate hands slowly traced a path along his chest. He felt the sensations of another body lean against him, smooth, naked skin rubbing against his still soaked back. Then, the warmth of a face propped itself on his shoulders, the sound of rhythmic breathing caressing his ear.

"Jin…"

"Hanako?"

Without even thinking, he took the hands into his own, caressing her fingers into his own.

"Jin…" she repeated his name.

"How… what are you… how are you even here?"

"Save me…"

"What are you…" Jin quickly turned around to face Hanako…

…and was startled to see a different face behind him.

"Save me," she repeated, the voice this time distinctly higher pitched. Her cocoa brown eyes, once filled with exuberant joy, looked at him with sadness and despair.

"Xiaoyu…"

"Jin… please… save us all…"

Jin felt his heart shatter at the sight of his friend. Normally bright and energetic, the Ling Xiaoyu kneeling before him looked absolutely miserable. Her long, dark hair, typically tied up into a pair of twin tails, was left limp, twisted, and unkempt. Her skin looked ashen, devoid of life. Her body looked sickeningly thin with almost none of her cherubic features left intact. And her face… for as long as he knew her, he had never seen her looking so vulnerable, so pitiful as she was now…

"No…" he gaped.

A jumble of thoughts ran through his mind. The woman before him was known for her bubbly, childlike behavior. Annoying to some, endearing to others, even he found her playfulness to be infectious. That, plus she was an incredibly gifted practitioner of wushu, which also meant she was someone not to be underestimated. To think that this decrepit woman, the one whom wished to build her own theme park, the one who begged to have a pet panda, was the very same Ling Xiaoyu…

The Chinese woman covered her face and immediately burst into tears. Quickly, Jin reached out to comfort the shaken woman, only to be pushed away.

"Xiaoyu – "

As he fell, from out of nowhere, Xiaoyu bellowed out an impossibly loud, inhuman screech. Jin tumbled off the edge of the bed, covering his ears from the shrill cry. And then, just as sudden, Xiaoyu burst into flame.

"Xiaoyu!" he cried out, struggling to get back to his feet and leapt towards the woman. The moment he made contact was the moment Xiaoyu's body crumbled to nothingness…

Jin perched on the bed with his hands and knees, his face still wide-eyed in shock.

_Nina…_

_Hanako…_

_Xiaoyu…_

The once mighty King of Iron Fist champion felt his arms shake and buckle as he collapsed onto the bed.

_Mother…_

Slowly, he curled himself into a ball, hugging his body into a fetal position, and trembled.

* * *

The day had finally arrived. For some, it felt like an eternity. For others, they couldn't wait to get it over with.

The master of Soleil Inc., Heihachi Mishima, sat comfortably in his seat, eyeing the crowd of people gathered below. For him, time did not matter, everything went according to plan even with the week's setbacks.

The number of participants was staggering, to say the least. Without even looking at the list, the large sea of fighters in the building completely covered the ground. Some of the faces he recognized, while many others were new. Many, he sensed, weren't really worthy of much attention, though it didn't matter. What mattered was that there were many hungry souls wishing to become the next champion… souls that he would soon extract, taking him one step closer to his revival.

The pieces were now in place.

His son, Kazuya, was now under his thumb, as was Jin.

Hanako had returned and would be complete.

The fighters stood itching for battle.

All that was left was to raise the curtain…

Heihachi quietly stood up, strode towards his platform, and gazed into the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he proclaimed. "Welcome to the King of Iron Fist Tournament!"


	14. Stage 13

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 13_

The opening ceremony of the tournament was full of pomp, though had very little of anything else.

If there was one thing Kazuya had to admit, his father was quite the performer given the right platform, even if the words spewed from his mouth were about as inspiring as having horse manure jammed between his ears. The crowd watched as Heihachi made his usual spiel about the honor and strength of the warrior, the privilege to host such a grand tournament with so many fighters of all nations joining together in the spirit of the fight, the rich history and tradition of the Iron Fist Tournament itself rooted through the spirit of the late Jinpachi Mishima ("********!" Kazuya coughed), the whole blurb about grace, sportsmanship, and respect for each martial artist, the tear jerking tragedies of those who had fallen in the past few days, and the old, tired line of pushing forward to the future and not looking back. Hearing the same basic speech over and over, Kazuya wanted to roll his eyes and crawl in a corner to sleep.

The crowd, on the other hand, ate up Heihachi's words. The vast majority looked up at the master with heartfelt awe. They were absolutely swooned by his charisma, the words resonating to their hearts. Then they cheered in unison as the speech came to an end. Those who knew the history of the Iron Fist Tournament, and those who knew what Heihachi was like, they were the only ones who saw through the colorful words and realized the emptiness in his speech. Of course, with so many fighters having been purged especially in the last two nights before the ceremony, such people were of the minority.

A few more choice words, some wine and dine, and a bit of sparse entertainment later, the ceremony came to a close. While most of the soon-to-be competitors lingered around for the festivities, Kazuya chose to make his leave.

Evening came swiftly as Kazuya made his way to his suite.

"To what do I owe the pleasure… _brother_?" Kazuya glowered.

From out of the corner of the corridor, Lars stepped out into the open, his hands folded across his chest.

"Don't call me that," Lars seethed.

Kazuya snickered at his half brother, though declined to make any further comment. The idea he even had a sibling still disgusted him to this day; the fact that Lars was the offspring of a different mother only amplified that disgust tenfold. Still, Kazuya had to admit, from time to time he found some pleasure in Lars' torment over their Mishima blood. It was the one form of entertainment he had since his 'rivalry' with his foster brother, Lee Chaolan…

"Do you have something you wish to speak to me, or do we simply stand in this hall and continue our staring contest?" Kazuya asked.

"I will find out," Lars said mirthlessly.

The two siblings continued their quiet standoff.

"Find out… what?" Kazuya sighed.

"You know precisely what it is," Lars answered.

"And why do people insist I know something?" Kazuya grandiosely threw his arms in the air. "Actually, do not answer that," he interjected. "It was a rhetorical question. Please, enlighten me as to what I 'precisely know what it is'."

The Swede tightened his jaw at his half brother's remark.

"I will find out," he stated. "And when I do, I will hunt both you and Heihachi down, and make you both pay with your blood."

Kazuya roared with sadistic laughter. "How Mishima of you," he cracked a smile. "Truly, the family's blood runs thick within you!"

Lars took a threatening step forward, his hands balled into angry fists.

"Uh-uh-uh," Kazuya retorted with a finger. "Temper, brother," then added with a whisper, "It runs in the family, you know."

The Swede stopped in his tracks, mere inches short of pummeling his demonic half brother, seething between gritted teeth yet did nothing else.

"Make no mistake, we will have it out once and for all," Lars growled. "What happened with the fighters, what you and Heihachi did with Lee, I will also find out. And then you will both pay."

"Will you go through with the threat this time," Kazuya goaded, "or will you continue to bore me with your speeches? That seems to be a tradition every tournament we have." _You sound almost as repetitive as that annoying whelp…_ he thought to himself; it was an all too familiar threat he had heard countless times from his son, Jin, in the past (and in the present, for that matter).

"Laugh while you can… brother," Lars countered. "When all is said and done, our… curse will end."

With determined steps, the Swede walked passed his half brother, taking care to bump him in his stride, and disappeared down the corridor.

* * *

The first day of the tournament was equally as eventful as the opening ceremony. Fifty percent noise, forty nine percent pomp, and one percent everything else.

Sitting uncomfortably in his cushioned leather seat, Kazuya watched the matches with a combination of disinterest and utter disdain.

_What is wrong with that old man?_ Kazuya thought to himself ruefully. _This tournament is full of… amateurs!_

Indeed, given the audience from the opening ceremony, many of the supposed fighters showed plenty of swagger and ego and very little in the way of actual skill in the ring. A number of the competitors came across as nothing more than dumb muscle, hardly worth the time it took to even breathe in the same space, let alone do battle. It seemed that Heihachi took more of the quantity over quality approach, and that in itself made Kazuya sick.

Match after match, fight after fight, Kazuya became more and more weary, though the crowd didn't seem to mind. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, some familiar faces showed up to take their place in the ring…

* * *

He was known by throughout the fighting world as the hot blooded fighter.

Indeed, aside from his ridiculous haircut ('broom head' as some would refer to him), he was known for both his prowess and his aggressiveness in a match. Never one to hold back his fearsome strength, and never one to back down from a challenge, he would attack his opponents with the ferocity of a wild animal. So aggressive was his Judo style that even the strength of a Mishima would be hard pressed to hold him back.

Whether it be man, woman, bear, god, demon, or alien, all would feel his burning might and all would eventually acknowledge that he truly is the greatest fighter in the universe.

Such were the ways of Paul Phoenix.

Today, however, was different.

"HIYAH!"

The passion was still there; that much was evident just by the twinkle in his eyes. The fighting spirit was still there, as evident by the flaming aura he exuded with each step he took in the ring.

"ORYAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

_SMASH!_

"OOF!"

And most certainly the strength was still there, as Paul demonstrated on his hapless opponent with one gargantuan fist to the midsection. Death Fist, Phoenix Smasher, whatever the move was called, it mattered little what one chose to call it in the end. All the opponent could do was flail his arms as he was sent flying back like a piece of refuse caught in a hurricane.

_CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH!_

…nor could he put up much defense as Paul pummeled his face repeatedly with lefts and rights.

As Paul watched his opponent crumble in his hands, the crowd rose to their feet, cheering and chanting with each blow he landed. The audience was practically floored by his awesome strength, captivated by his skill and tenacity. Paul had them in the palm of his hand…

…and yet, for the first time, he did not acknowledge them.

_THUMP!_

"The winner!" the ring announcer declared, his voice completely drowned out by the raucous cries and cheers before he even announced Paul's name.

Paul swiped his nose with his hand and walked out of the ring with determined steps.

The man was on a mission; that much also hadn't changed. What did change, however, was the mission itself.

_I will find the ones who did this to you…_ Paul thought to himself. He clenched his right fist tightly till his knuckles cracked. For the first time, there was something far greater than proving the world… or even the universe… of his skill in the ring. He just hadn't realized it till now. The grizzled fighter turned and spat on the ground before leaving his adoring fans.

The mission to show the world he is the greatest fighter in the universe was momentarily put on hold.

_Sit tight, Marshall… we are coming.

* * *

_

It was rather funny the way life worked to say the least.

It seemed almost like yesterday that he was some mere punk brought up in an orphanage with little to nothing to offer to the world. When he did try to do something, he was defeated, stomped, and humiliated again and again.

Such was the legacy of a poor man…

Then, fate would smile upon him one day, as what can only be described as an old acquaintance stumbled upon him. Admiring his tenacity, and also out of respect for an old friend, he took him under his wing, trained him, beating him into his body not only moves, but also the harsh teachings of both life in and out of the wrestling ring. Years later, he became a man worthy of carrying a legacy, as opponent after opponent fell to his feet.

Regardless of the fame he gained, whether inside the ropes, or inside a virtual blood fest as the Iron Fist Tournament, he never forgot where he came from. He was brought up an orphan by a man in a jaguar mask who sacrificed himself day in and day out to ensure all the children had more than simply food and bed. The only thing greater than his wrestling prowess was the heart he had for the orphanage; all the masked man wanted was to make the children happy, no matter what it took.

When that man died, the young orphan was crushed. That man was as close to a father figure he ever had, and his life was taken from him. Thus he did the only thing he could do to repay that debt. Thus he fought in the ring to raise money for the orphanage as the masked man did.

Thus he carried on the legacy of the masked man known as King.

Now the weight of that legacy became even heavier, as he stepped into the ring. A weight much heavier than what his opponent was about to receive…

_SMACK!_

The opponent could do little as he received a backhand fully to the chest. Even a simple slap across the chest caused the opponent to stagger on his feet.

_POW!_

The opponent felt himself lifted into the air as the masked man connected with a quick uppercut with the right hand. Unusually quick, given the stature of the masked man, three hundred pounds strong.

_CRACK!_

Once again, the opponent fell to another of the masked man's blows as he was on the receiving end of a lariat from the left arm. Soon, the world would fade as he felt a pair of muscular forearms wrap around his throat, putting him into a choke hold…

_CRUNCH!_

…followed by a back suplex…

_CRUNCH!_

…followed by a German suplex…

_CRACK!_

…then a power bomb, and then, with both legs locked in the masked man's arms…

_SWISH! SWISH! SWISH! SWOOOSH! SLAM!_

…a giant swing.

"The winner!" the announcer declared.

The crowd roared again, giving the masked man a loud standing ovation as he exited the ring. Even with the confidence of the audience, the man who was once known as King the Second still felt the burden of living up to a legacy. Now, as he adjusted the spiked pauldrons on his shoulders, that very weight suddenly doubled.

Life was very funny.

Now, instead of one legacy, the orphan carried with him _two_ legacies.

…and above all else, there was still the orphanage.

…and his partner, and 'brother-in-arms', Craig Marduk.

When he heard about what happened to Craig, a part of him snapped. The burly man, once renowned for his brutality, became one of the most respected men in the world of mixed martial arts. To think they were once hated rivals, their battles in the Iron Fist tournament quickly garnered respect for one another, and soon the two became partners and the best of friends. Eventually, Craig began to train others in his vale tudo style, which eventually attracted many students. Then the news came of the disappearances of many fighters, and his name was on that list…

Indeed, the weight was heavy, and not just because of the plate armor he now donned with the jaguar mask. Now, so many people relied on him, and with the strength of the enchanted mask, he knew he could make a difference in the world. At the same time, he felt the world suffocating him.

Still, he held his head high in victory, and though the pressure was hard, he welcomed the challenge. So long as the orphanage remained, every weight he had placed on his shoulders was well worth it.

As the masked man walked out, the last thing he heard was the roar of his adoring fans, all chanting his name:

"Armor King! Armor King! Armor King! Armor King!"

The legacy of the Kings now lived in him, and no matter what happens next, Armor King the Third will live up to their names…

* * *

Julia Chang knelt down on one knee and prayed to the spirits for their protection, as was her custom before every match.

Once again, the half Chinese, half Native American found herself competing in the blood sport known as the King of Iron Fist Tournament, and once again she found herself on another quest.

Only now, she was truly alone.

For the past few years, Julia was on a mission to save her native forests in Arizona, burying herself in books, occupying herself in research, all in the hopes of saving her homeland. No matter the difficulties, her adopted mother, Michelle Chang, was always behind her, be it in person or in spirit.

Now, however, all she had guiding her were the spirits as she approached her opponent. The referee raised his arm, and the match began.

Ducking and weaving, Julia had to admit this particular opponent had _some_ skills as she barely managed to avoid a kick to the face. The young native felt herself stagger back as she blocked a hard blow with her arm, feeling the strength in his attack.

Not bad, she thought.

Still, she noted, he was a little too slow and he had a few openings in his attacks. Small openings for most, but gaping holes for someone of Julia's caliber. All she had to do was wait, bide her time, and then…

_CRUNCH!_

Julia seized her opportunity and landed an elbow to her opponent's gut.

The opponent reeled as Julia spun on the ground to deliver a kick, then immediately exploded back on her feet and delivered an uppercut. A few successive punches later, the opponent found himself landing hard on the ground. Moments later, he slowly picked himself up from the ground, clearly dazed from the beating he took.

_POW!_

One hard blow to the midsection later, he was back on the ground, this time for good.

"The winner!" the announcer declared.

The crowd rose to their feet, giving Julia a standing ovation. The Native American smiled to the audience, acknowledging their cheers, then tilted her head towards the sky and let out a sigh.

The last time Michelle went missing was back in the third tournament, during the Ogre incident. Michelle had wanted to visit Heihachi Mishima in regards to the pendant that now adorned Julia's neck. Of course, she ended up captured for her transgressions against the Zaibatsu, and Julia took it upon herself to search for her adopted mother as well as stop the evil Ogre's path of destruction. Even during that time, however, Julia knew in her heart that her mother was still alive, and that she had faith that she would see her again.

This time, she wasn't so certain anymore.

Adjusting the feathered headband, Julia looked to the skies once more, tuning out the rest of the world, and prayed to the spirits once more.

"Michelle…" Julia mouthed her mother's name. "Where are you?"

* * *

Hwoarang wasted absolutely no time against his opponent.

_WHACK!_

The moment the match started, the young taekwondo practitioner plunged himself into the fight, launching a flurry of kicks at his victim, and never looked back.

_CRUNCH!_

Meanwhile, his opponent didn't even know what hit him.

_CRACK!_

One moment, he was trash talking to the Korean before the match, the next he found himself being pounded to the gravel. It was a miracle that he was still standing, considering the fact that his leg was broken courtesy of a kick to the shin.

_CRACK!_

Along with several cracked ribs courtesy of another blow to the chest.

And several more kicks to the head.

_WHACK! WHACK! CRUNCH!_

Outside of hustling, there was no better thrill for the young Korean than to pummel any idiot that dared look down on him. Once upon a time, Hwoarang was once a part of a biker gang who used to swindle hapless fools of their money through fixed matches. Many a gangster looked down upon his gang as nothing more than a bunch of young punks, and it suited Hwoarang just fine. It made collecting all the more easier…

_CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRACK!_

All of that ceased the moment he met a certain man during one of his typical fights. The match was fixed just like all the others, and the stakes were high.

_CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH!_

The match started, and the young Korean found himself in the fight of his life.

_WHACK! CRUNCH! SMACK!_

The man he fought was good. Very good. Though the red haired biker was able to defend himself admirably, Hwoarang found it difficult to muster any offence of his own. Minutes passed, the two men trading blows with each other, and after all that… the only thing he could muster out of that match was a draw.

_A draw!_

How dare he mar his perfect record with _a draw!_

He eventually discovered the very source of power used against him, which only made his blood boil…

_CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRACK!_

In mere seconds, Hwoarang's opponent went down in a heap, unable to even lift a finger against him. As for the biker himself, he didn't even break a sweat.

"The winner!"

The crowd was momentarily stunned by his aggressive display, still trying to absorb what just went on in that ring. Finally, the audience roared in unison in a standing ovation that practically shook the stadium.

"Tch…"

Thumbing his nose, the red headed man took one more look at his defeated opponent, and walked towards the exit.

It didn't matter where he had to go, or who he had to go through to get there. Hwoarang came to this tournament for one reason, and one reason only. To find the one man who managed to see through his hustling and fight him to a draw, and summarily humiliate him in front of his gang. It had been the only purpose he had ever since the two men had first fought, and after countless tournaments, what started off as mere revenge became an obsession.

Hwoarang turned and looked back at the ring.

"Jin Kazama," Hwoarang smirked to himself. "You better be ready."

* * *

Another match passed, as did another, and yet another…

…and another…

…and Kazuya, unable to stomach any more of these 'fights', abruptly got up from his seat and left.

And as he stepped out, the crowd roared in unison. Kazuya scoffed at the crowd and made his exit.

* * *

Steve Fox folded his hands behind his head and laid quietly on the luxurious bed.

What was it that constantly attracted the boxer to these tournaments, he wasn't quite sure. Truth be told, the well chiseled Brit at times found himself at odds when it came to his participation, a part of him excited to test his mettle against the best the world had to offer, another part wishing he had never heard of the words, 'Iron Fist', in the first place. Certainly, Steve had reason to join this tournament, with Marshall being missing and Paul pleading with the boxer to join forces once more.

As, for lack of a better word, 'uncivilized' as Paul and Marshall may be, there was no way Steve could say no to Paul's plea. In a twisted way, they were a fun bunch to be around (even though he still had to repay Marshall for the laxatives he put in his food). Their initial alliance during the sixth Iron Fist tournament didn't quite pan out the way they had hoped, but it was the beginning of a rather odd, sometimes awkward, other times embarrassing, yet overall very fruitful friendship…

The Englishman felt the scars in his right forearm tingle. Unable to get comfortable, Steve quickly jumped off the bed and left the room.

And as soon as he opened the door, from across the hallway, Nina was there.

"Holy sh – " he nearly swore.

Amongst the things that made Steve uneasy about the tournament, seeing his biological mother ranked fairly high up in the list. The thought of his mother being both a skilled assassin and a highly proficient fighter was impressive enough. What made his hair stand on end was the memory of the Irish woman being hired by his former employer to put a hit on him back during the fourth tournament. Granted, the mob that once employed him had since been taken down, and Nina herself seemingly lost interest in going through with the hit and had left him alone since, but he felt uneasy around her nevertheless.

Of course, even with those thoughts in mind, the young Brit felt his wariness exponentially heightened.

"Uh…" he scratched the back of his neck.

A closer examination into the Irish woman's eyes told him everything he needed to know. Cold, listless, completely devoid of emotion. The Nina he knew can be cold and calculated at times (probably all part of her job description), yet even in those situations there was a fiery blaze found deep within her blue eyes (especially when it came to her rivalry with Anna… another woman that made him uneasy). What he just saw before him was someone that resembled Nina in form, and nothing else. Just a mere shell of the woman known as the Silent Assassin…

Out of nowhere, the quiet sounds of bells and chants echoed the hall. Her expression still emotionless, her body shifted in response to the chants, seemingly mesmerized by the song.

Steve wanted to approach the blonde woman, yet a sudden chill in the atmosphere kept the boxer from taking a single step. From out of the corner of his eye, a small entourage of hooded men and women in ceremonial white robes drifted in the hall, some playing simple instruments, some holding rosaries in their hands seemingly in prayer, all of them chanting a monotonous, yet hypnotic tune. From within the eerie procession, an elderly man dressed in a gray robe lead the entourage, his low, raspy voice heard above the rest of the melodies. Judging by the outfit and the cleanly shaved scalp, a Chinese monk, Steve surmised, yet something about the blissful expression in his face seemed rather out of place…

As the robed men and women began to walk past Nina, the monk slowly turned his head to the boxer and, without stopping his song, smiled warmly and bowed his head in acknowledgment. Taken aback by the monk's gesture, Steve nodded back out of courtesy as the group continued their march. Then, all of a sudden, the entourage vanished, along with the Silent Assassin.

"What the…" the Englishman muttered as he finally took his first step into the hall. Steve looked to his left and right, scrambling to make sense of what he just saw. Scratching his neatly combed blonde hair, the boxer took a couple of steps towards his left in the direction the procession marched, then stopped in his tracks.

"Weird…" was the only word that came out of his mouth.

* * *

Anna rubbed the soreness from her neck as she made her preparations for her upcoming match.

Thus far, she saw many different faces in the tournament, some familiar, others new. There were plenty of fighters on attendance, but overall, competition in the first day, had been less than stellar… and not much in the way of strapping, handsome young men, either.

The brunette sighed.

"Let's just get this over with," she said impatiently.

Dressed in a long, dark overcoat, Anna sat cross-legged on her seat, counting down the matches before it was her turn to fight.

Amongst the familiar face, so far, she watched the Russian soldier… Dragunov, or some such name… break his opponent down piece by piece, the airheaded rich girl, Lili, beat the living the tar out of what Anna could only describe as a jack***, the nosy detective, Lei Wulong, practically waltzed through his match, and that android, Black Jack, frighten and humiliate his opponent in his… Anna wasn't even sure what to call it. That man practically fainted and crapped in his pants the moment he laid eyes on the droid, and she could tell that Jack was none too pleased, though she had to admit, it was kind of funny to watch.

The brunette sighed again.

As much as she liked easy matches, Anna hoped that her opponent would put up some semblance of a fight. Watching most of these fights practically bored her to death, and the only reason why she managed to stay awake all this time was the bothersome crowd getting a little too hyped over these matches. As much as she wanted to get these matches over with, this was a little too pathetic.

Indeed, her opponent better put up a good fight, or she'd be insulted.

"Anna Williams," she heard her name being called. "You're up next."

Flicking a lock of her brown hair, Anna gracefully stood up from her seat, and walked out towards the ring.

* * *

The brunette dazzled the crowd the moment she stepped to the ring.

Whether it be man or woman, no one could deny the buxom beauty's ability to make an entrance, and that was just the way she liked it as she winked to her adoring fans and blew a sultry kiss to the air.

The crowd, especially from the male audience, whistled and hollered at Anna, the sheer volume drowning out the announcer's voice.

Adoring the attention showered upon her, she looked up at the crowd, pointing her finger lustily at the audience while quietly mouthing the words, "You want more?"

To the brunette's satisfaction, the crowd pleaded to Anna, practically begging for the Irish woman for 'more', a request which Anna simply could not refuse. Seductively tracing her finger over the buckle on her waist, she slowly, achingly loosened the belt and torturously unbuttoned her overcoat. Then, with a hypnotic shake, she allowed the jacket to slide off her body, revealing one of her trademark cocktail dresses hugging tightly around her perfectly sculpted figure.

The crowd bellowed out a roar of approval as Anna sashayed on the ring, posing for her adoring fans.

"Let's get this party started already," she said to herself, folding her arms on her chest and waited.

It didn't take long for the party to begin, as her opponent strolled into the ring. Ruffled mass of brown hair, light stubble around his face, and a fairly light complexion, especially from one who was distinctly Spanish. The outfit he wore practically screamed 'bullfighter', from the neatly pressed white dress shirt with gold trimmings to the red, silk sash around his waist, to the dark, almost knee high leather boots. In spite of his elegant choice of fashion, he exuded a raw, rugged aura about him, a strength that was very distinct compared to the many opponents Anna had seen.

Plus, he was a far better to sight to look at compared to a number of men she had seen… if some of them could be called men.

This match was definitely going to be different…

"Miguel Caballero Rojo," Anna smirked.

The Spaniard ignored the roar of the audience, cracking his knuckles as he approached his opponent.

"Anna Williams," Miguel sneered, his voice rather light for someone of his physique and temperament. "As much as I would like to stay and chat with a lady like you, I have some family business to take care of…" The brawler raised his arms and dropped to his fighting stance as he added, "Don't take it personal, my dear."

Anna raised her hands and fell to her familiar fighting stance.

"Don't worry," she purred. "I most definitely won't."

The referee raised his arm in the air, as the crowd leaned forward in anticipation for this next battle.

"Fight!"


	15. Stage 14

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 14_

Jin Kazama, former CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu, current King of Iron Fist, and all around scourge of the four corners of the Earth, watched the preliminary rounds through a monitor while held in solitary confinement.

As a man of 'royalty', even within a rich prison, proper dress code required the king to be clothed in attire fitting for a monarch such as himself. Silky white dress shirt with fine embroideries etched along the body down to the hem with sleeves elegantly rolled into French cuffs. Neatly pressed charcoal grey vest exquisitely tailored with gold buttons wrapped over the dress shirt along with a matching pair of charcoal grey dress pants and black polished shoes. A large, silver chest-scarf tied around his neck and folded neatly into his vest. Long, dark overcoat made from the finest of leathers sewn together with red interior. Completing the ensemble were a set of rings on his fingers and perhaps the most expensive Rolex ever conceived.

The room he was confined to was just as dazzling as his attire, with the finest of furniture imported all over the world, including the throne-like chair Jin was currently sitting upon. Old paintings hung over the walls of the large room. Large, marble statues stood proudly at the entrance of the hallways like guardians protecting the gate. Fine red carpets were strewn about the equally decorative marble and wooden floors. The overall style of the suite was decidedly Roman, though some of the furnishings and decorations were of different ethnicities. In spite of the mixture of styles, the room was both cozy and stylish.

He looked the part of a modern day aristocrat, with a prison equally fit for nobility.

The massive oak doors to his suite suddenly opened, though Jin didn't bother to turn. He knew who was there merely from the sounds of footsteps along the wooden flooring.

"I trust you had a good rest."

Smooth. Sibilant. Cold. The voice was all too familiar to the young 'monarch'. Jin didn't answer, but rather kept his gaze on the monitor.

"So you wish to remain silent?" the voice said. "Good. I was getting sick and tired of your blathering."

Kazuya Mishima, former CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu and G-Corporation, former King of Iron Fist, part time vagabond, part time evil scourge, and part time all around hero of the four corners of the Earth (which he would exploit whenever possible), helped himself to a seat and sat next to his son.

"Not that it would make you feel any better," Kazuya continued, "but this was not quite the way I had planned."

Jin didn't even flinch and continued watching the monitor. Kazuya merely shrugged off his son's silence and continued.

"The good news is I am closer to retrieving what I… what _we_ are looking for, thanks in part to your 'contributions'," he corrected himself with a sneer. "Since then, I have been granted further access to the facilities, and managed to procure more information on where the old man keeps his little experiments. Unfortunately, his security is still too tight for me to get through alone to find the rest of the information we need in our search. And with that assassin being under his influence, infiltration of the higher levels has become more difficult."

At the mention of the elder Williams' name, the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO momentarily glared at his father.

"No matter," Kazuya stretched comfortably in his seat, and fixed his eyes on the monitor. "Oh… him again," he growled under his breath.

In the monitor, Miguel managed to sidestep Anna's kicks and punished her with a hard blow to the side. Father and son continued to watch the match unfold on the screen.

"Aren't you worried?" Jin finally said, though his tone was devoid of any concern.

"Not at all," Kazuya sighed. "Anna can take care of that cockroach of yours." He turned to his son and looked him in the eye. "If anything, I should be the one asking you the question."

* * *

"The next time I complain about an easy match, I should just shut up," Anna mumbled under her breath.

Sitting on her rump, the brunette rubbed her aching sides, thankful that she didn't break anything during her fall.

Meanwhile, the rugged Spaniard waited smugly for Anna to get back on her feet.

"Like I said, chica," he said in his typical swagger. "Don't take it personal."

Scowling at her opponent, Anna slowly got back on her feet, brushed the dust off her dress, and resumed her fighting stance.

"Don't worry," she replied grimly. "I most definitely won't."

Miguel let out a chuckle and, squaring his body towards the brunette while keeping his hands low in a rather smug posture, likewise resumed his 'fighting stance'. Anna studied the Spaniard's movement intently, taking the time also to allow the pain on her sides to subside.

In spite of the fact that Miguel doesn't practice any sort of formal martial arts or follow a discipline like the rest of the combatants, the brawler was still formidable in his own right. Most would consider him a troublemaker, one who loved to start fights for no apparent reason, yet underneath that gruff exterior laid a deceptively seasoned fighter with the experience and the IQ of a veteran. Though he may be rough on the edges, especially given the underhanded tactics he may employ, what he lacked in refinement, he more than made up for in sheer aggression. Anna knew that what she had received was merely a small taste of the brutality that his no-holds barred style could do, especially when he sets his mind to the task.

And currently, Miguel has his sights set on Mishima blood, starting with Jin Kazama.

The Irish woman muttered under her breath, the words 'sister lover' barely audible.

"What did you say?" Miguel grunted.

A smile slowly curled on her lips. "I said, what are you waiting for, big boy," she chirped, beckoning her opponent. "Let's play."

The ruffled brawler scoffed at the remark, then, taking a decisive step towards his opponent, threw a left jab at her. Instinctively, Anna raised her arms to block the jab, and maintained her defensive stance as the Spaniard followed up with a right hand, then, clenching his hands together, slammed his fists down into a double hammer punch, pushing the Irish woman back from the sheer force of the blow.

Anna, noting the lag from his previous offensive, tried to counter his attack, stretching her arm to deliver an open palmed cross. Unfortunately, due to some sluggishness on Anna's part, the Spaniard easily blocked the attack and, whipping his arm sidewise, delivered a haymaker for all of her effort. The brunette barely managed to weave her head out of the way as the punched sailed just past her nose. Miguel maintained his pressure, utilizing his longer reach and making quick, precise blows with his fists while Anna, looking rather sluggish on her feet, could do little except block his attacks.

_****!_ Anna swore to herself. _Can't believe I let that 'roided Casanova get the jump on me in the first place…_

The brawler continued his barrage, spinning his body to land a few backhands, or whipping his arm to land more haymakers. Anytime she thought she found an opening, Miguel would expertly block her attack and counter with one of his own, nullifying any offence she could muster. A quick strike with her palm, the Spaniard managed to back away from the attack. A quick knee to the gut, the brawler would simply block the attack with his hand and counter with a kick of his own, to which the brunette could do little save to move her body just enough to not take the full impact of the attack. Another quick strike, and Miguel would once again parry the move and land a strike of his own, pushing the woman back.

Afterwards, the Spaniard would continue to apply the pressure, taking advantage of her weakened state and slowly whittle at her defenses with a combination of punches and kicks. Noting her current disadvantage, the woman known as the 'Lightning Scarlet' steeled herself, patiently blocking and parrying his attacks while awaiting the right moment to strike. After all, as rugged and dashing as the 'manly man' may be, she was not going to let some sister-loving brawler get the best of Anna Williams…

The Spaniard suddenly lunged forward with a quick, sharp kick with his right leg. Anna barely reacted as she caught the right foot with both hands, intending to twist the outstretched limb and put the brawler to the ground. Unfortunately for her, Miguel instinctively turned his body with the momentum and, with his left leg, brought his other foot to the side of her head, landing yet another decisive blow while wrenching himself free from her grip.

"Damn it!" she hissed, her body hitting the ground hard. Adding more insult to injury, Miguel, posturing himself like a bully, kicked the prone Irish woman hard like a soccer ball on the chest, the impact practically flipping her over and skidding a short distance on the ground.

Meanwhile, the onlookers winced and reacted to the blows with a scattered chorus of jeers.

* * *

Watching the match, Kazuya furrowed his brow at the display, while Jin remained calm and expressionless.

"I suppose this is also not part of the plan," Jin remarked.

"Watch your attitude, boy," Kazuya grumbled. "Keep in mind she was one of the reasons why Nina didn't kill you," he reminded. "Not to mention I brought her with us for the sake of our mission."

"On the contrary, I have nothing against Anna personally," Jin clarified. "I was simply pointing out a possible flaw in your plan. Namely the fact she is currently not doing so well against that brawler." His face hardened into seriousness. "If anything happens to either of the Williams sisters, it will be on your head," he added sternly.

Kazuya growled under his breath.

"Again, Anna can take care of that cockroach," the former G-Corporation CEO maintained, and continued to watch the match unfold on the monitor.

* * *

Experience and toughness were the only things keeping Anna from taking any more beatings as she rolled away from yet another kick from the Spaniard and snapped back on her feet. Her vision felt dull from the kick she had received, and now her chest stung. If he kicked any lower, Miguel probably would have broken a few of her ribs (…and they say size doesn't matter).

_I see he's gotten even better…_ It was a frightening thought, given that he was already good back when he made himself known in the sixth Iron Fist Tournament.

"Keep this up and you might get yourself killed, chica… at least that's what I try to warn them, though no one ever listens to me," he sighed.

Licking his chops, Miguel hunched over slightly and, with right hand on his hip, dangled his left arm. As arrogant as that posture looked (more so than his typical glowering position he adopted for his 'discipline'), Anna knew from watching past matches that this was yet another stance in his 'fighting style'.

"Though I hate having to ruin such a pretty face, I will do so if it means getting to your bosses. Consider that another warning, my dear."

Anna rubbed the side of her head, her ears still ringing from that blasted kick.

"I would like to see you try, big boy," she smirked, blowing a kiss at the brawler afterwards.

"Cute, chica…" Miguel shook his head drolly. "Very cute."

In a blink of an eye, Miguel lunged forward and delivered a strong uppercut with his right. The brunette weaved backwards from the blow, managing to avoid the incoming fist yet stepping a little too far, causing her to momentary lose her balance. Seizing that awkward moment, the brawler grabbed her head and, holding her steady, landed some solid hits with his fists, pummeling her torso repeatedly with a brutal hooks.

Dazed, Anna attempted to fight back only for Miguel to kick at her legs to weaken her balance, then turned his left shoulder towards her and, charging forward, planted an elbow to her midsection. Anna flew backwards like a ragdoll from the impact, and landed hard on the ground. For a moment, the Irish woman swore something broke as she felt a sharp pain in her chest. It didn't help the pain much with the crowd noisily cheering in the background.

"Silly girl," Miguel sighed. "Did I not warn you, my dear? If I didn't say it once, I've said it a hundred times. You keep this up, and for sure you will get yourself killed." The rugged brawler looked up to the sky and bellowed, "Why does no one ever listen to me!"

Turning his attention back to the sprawled Anna, Miguel took confident steps towards his opponent, cracking his knuckles as he strolled. The crowd continued to watch with anticipation, some of them at the edge of their seats.

"Ever since the day my sister died, I found myself visiting the priest almost every day," he grumbled. "I swear, after all the confessions I been making, I think he is sick and tired of seeing me so much. Oh well."

The Irish woman managed to get on her hands and knees, though found it difficult to maintain even that balance. Her breathing sounded erratic as she was still reeling from having the wind knocked out of her. The moment the Spaniard was within striking distance, Anna dug her heels to the ground and lunged at her opponent in a futile attempt to knock him down. Miguel easily sidestepped her attack and stood in a prone position, daring the Irish woman to try something again.

"Look, let's make a deal," he said. "You stop this little dance, you keep your pretty little face. You continue, I will beat the **** out of you. What do you say?"

Anna, turning to face her opponent, replied with exhausted swipes with her hands. Miguel likewise weaved away from the attacks, and, grabbing the woman by her outstretched arm, threw her back to the ground face first.

"Now listen here," Miguel berated. "In spite of my, how you say, machismo, I like to think I can be a gentleman. You know, a nice guy. And in spite of your occupation, you are, how you say, very hot. You know, _rawr_. Please, let us settle this, how you say, civilized."

Wheezing for air, Anna turned and glowered at the man, the fire still in her eyes though the body was a different matter.

"You know, I like it," Miguel admitted, gesturing at the brunette with his finger. "I like a woman with a lot of fight in her. Come to think of it, you are just like your big sister."

At the mere mention of 'big sister', Anna's eyebrow began to twitch.

"True, she is a blonde, and a little more of a *****, but you two are definitely alike, no?"

Anna let out a big smile. "I… I beg your pardon?" she asked in the most pleasant tone she could muster while batting her eyelashes innocently. "Wh – what's this about being like my sister?"

"Now, hold on," Miguel waved his hands. "Personally, I prefer brunettes myself, so you are automatically cuter than your big sis… but even you have to admit, switch the hair, and, nnnh," he emphasized with a shrug of his shoulders, "no one can tell the difference."

Suddenly, Anna's face completely soured, the 'innocent', jovial expression completely replaced with one of pure, dark, hatred. Miguel was too absorbed in his words to take notice.

"Either way, you got lots of fight in you, that much I like. The point I was trying to make was having so much energy won't do you much good if you keep this up, so do yourself a favor and – uh…"

_CRUNCH!_

* * *

Sitting uncomfortably in their seats with legs suddenly crossed, Jin struggled to hold back his tears, while a sweat drop slowly trickled from Kazuya's forehead…

* * *

All the men in the audience cringed as Miguel, eyes bulging, fell on his knees with both hands holding his crotch. A very angry Lightning Scarlet stood over the brawler, fury unlike anything the brawler had ever seen burning in her eyes. Miguel swallowed, for the first time feeling a genuine sense of fear for his soul…

"Listen, 'chico'," Anna hissed venomously. "You kicked my girls," she said, her aching bosoms heaving underneath her dress as she seethed, "I kick your little boys. Consider us even."

With that, Anna pulled her palms back, and struck the Spaniard hard with a double handed clout. The brawler's head snapped back as he felt his body fly backwards from the brute force of her blow, and landed on the ground with a sickening thud.

When the dust settled, Miguel laid on the ground in a heap, muttering incoherent words in Spanish. His brow began to twitch as he felt the presence of the brunette loom large over him. He swallowed again.

It was not over… not yet…

* * *

Kazuya and Jin stared at the monitor in stunned silence.

"Like I said," Kazuya spoke out. "Anna can handle that cockroach."

Jin felt his lips dry.

"Indeed," he agreed.

* * *

Walking on his feet rather awkwardly, Miguel suddenly found himself on the defense as Anna, finding a second wind (and then some) went on the offensive in what had to be one of the most violent role reversals ever seen. The audience, of course, cried out with approval.

Forget the confessionals, now the Spaniard had to worry about leaving the match alive.

Meanwhile, the Lightning Scarlet fought back with only one goal in mind: to break every bone in the brawler's body. Her chest still hurt from the kick she received earlier. Her midsection still had that sharp pain from the elbow Miguel threw. Her sides felt numb. Her head was a haze. Her arms ached. Her knees screaming from every receptor. All this, yet Anna didn't care. Miguel was going to pay…

_Can't believe I'm letting that little devil ***** beat me like this!_ Miguel thought to himself.

Anna's eyebrow twitched yet again, which exasperated the brawler's fear even more. That was the point where Miguel found himself launched to the air through an open palmed strike from the brunette.

_Huh? What just happened?_

The Irish woman turned up her offence another notch. Immediately, the brunette followed up her initial attack with a sequence of lefts and rights, pushing the man further until his back was to the wall.

The crowd roared, chanting with every blow that landed.

"Oof!" Miguel cried out.

Launching herself in the air, Anna slammed the Spaniard hard against the wall with a scissors kick to the chest. Landing on the ground on one foot, the Irish woman quickly snapped her leg forward, connecting her right foot to Miguel's torso. The brawler felt his head bounce against the concrete, yet would receive no reprieve as Anna continued pummeling him angrily, bashing him thoroughly with repeated strikes with her palms and elbows.

Finally, the assault stopped, the injuries starting to catch up as Anna wobbled away from her opponent. Gasping for air, the fury in her eyes slowly began to fade, though she still maintained a defensive posture away from the prone man.

"Heh…" Miguel chuckled to himself, dragging himself to his feet with his back against the wall. "That… was very good." The brawler wiped his lower lip with his sleeve, staining the white dress shirt with a trickle of crimson.

And then, unexpectedly, he began to laugh.

"I love a woman with some fight in her, and you most definitely didn't disappoint!" he roared giddily.

Just as unexpectedly, his face turned stone cold.

"But now, play time is over!" he declared. Smacking his head to psyche himself up, Miguel started bouncing on his feet, this time adopting a more serious fighting stance as he raised both hands to his face. "I will have my revenge against that pretty boy Kazama and that ****** up father of his, and nothing will stop me, not even a pretty thing like you, so help me lord!"

The audience jumped out of their seats and cried out for more blood. Even to the untrained eye, out of all the matches, this was so far the most exciting bout in all the preliminaries.

In response, Anna took a glance downward, and found a tear on her dress. The fury in her eyes immediately returned.

"You… are _so_ dead!" Anna shrieked, and like a rabid cat, pounced towards the Spaniard.

Miguel quickly raised his arms to defend himself. Anna angrily flailed against the brawler's arms, the force of her blows creating audible smacking sounds against Miguel's toned forearms.

"You gone loco, chica!" he cried out. "You really are a psycho slut – "

Anna's brow twitched at the words coming from his mouth. Right then, the brawler quickly realized his mistake, but it was a little too late. A flying kick broke down his defense, and a knee to the stomach pitched his body forward. One somersault kick later, Miguel found himself pinned against the wall and slouching to the ground.

Back to square one.

The crowd watched the match with pent up excitement, yelling and stomping on the stands.

In the meantime, Miguel felt like a complete mess while Anna was practically foaming in the mouth.

_That didn't go well_, Miguel fumed in his mind.

With the color of red running through her head, the Lightning Scarlet dashed towards her fallen opponent, intent on finishing the match (and breaking him to pieces at the same time)…

…and yelped as Miguel tossed some dust in her eyes. With an audible sniff, the Spaniard eased himself slowly to his feet, then, lowering his body, pushed himself off the wall and tackled the woman to the ground.

"I may be a nice guy, and you may be _rawr_, but getting my *** kicked is not part of the plan!" he spat. Dusting himself off, the ruffled brawler picked himself off the ground, raised his balled fists head high, and, psyching himself up, bounced on his feet. Pointing to Anna, he gestured with his left hand, beckoning her to stand up.

Before the brunette could even get her feet tucked underneath, Miguel rushed forward and kicked the woman in the face. Anna flipped over and fell back on the ground, covering her face with her hands. The rugged brawler grabbed the brunette by the scruff of her neck and let out an angry snarl.

"As I had said before, as I do many times, don't take it personally," he hissed.

Anna spat in the Spaniard's face. "Not at all, sister lover," she sneered.

Miguel snapped, much to the joy of the crowd, and painful bemusement to the brunette. Drawing his right arm low, Miguel snapped his fist upwards into an uppercut, launching the Irish woman in the air and sending her spiraling back down. While the woman was still in freefall, Miguel charged forward, ramming the brunette with his shoulder and knocking her to the ground once more for good measure.

The audience began to cause a raucous, the fans hollering the names of their favorite fighters in the ring as the excitement reached a feverish pitch.

The Spanish brawler continued his way with the Irish woman, holding the woman by the head and punching her relentlessly with right hooks and jabs. Winding up his arm, he brought Anna down with one well placed haymaker to the head. As he watched the woman crumple before him, Miguel, exhausted, yet feeling cocky, walked over to the downed brunette, rolling his arms and his neck at the same time.

"I'd love to stay and chat some more, my dear, but I have things to do, and people to see," he snarled.

_CRUNCH!_

Anna answered with her heel to the crotch. The male audience, again, reacted painfully to the kick.

_Not again…_

"Now don't you be blaming me for that one, big boy," Anna seethed as she got back on her feet. "You walked into it this time." To add insult to injury, the brunette slapped Miguel hard across the face.

Now the audience was really in an uproar as the match devolved into a sluggish back and forth affair. For every blow Anna would land, Miguel would fight back and counter with blows of his own. The brunette would throw out a chop, which would get countered with a fist. An elbow from Anna would be blocked with a hook from Miguel. Anna would attempt a kick at the brawler, to which Miguel would respond to the brunette with a kick of his own. Anna would attempt a sequence of kicks, a straight followed by a roundhouse. Miguel would answer with a sequence of backhands with his right.

Some hits would be avoided or blocked, most however landed on their mark, battering the competitors over and over. Yet, in spite of the carnage unleashed, both fighters still remained standing.

As the fight wore on, the question on peoples' minds was 'who would prevail in this match'?

Street fighter versus Aikido master?

Scoundrel versus vixen?

Gentleman versus femme fatale?

Nice guy versus _rawr_?

Balls versus bosoms?

Vengeance versus the ripped dress?

…Sister lover versus Psycho Slut?

It was too much excitement to process…

Anna exhaustingly swung her hand at Miguel, which the rugged brawler barely managed to avoid. Unfortunately for the Lightning Scarlet, she put too much emphasis on that swing, causing her to stumble. Grabbing the woman by the shoulders, he quickly stepped around the woman, grabbed her by the left arm, and punched her in the shoulder. Afterwards, he grabbed the woman by the shoulders, spun her around, steadying her with both hands on the left shoulder, and connected with a right uppercut to the back, knocking her off her feet and falling face first to the ground.

The crowd began to chant as they sensed the end was drawing near.

* * *

"So the cockroach has some skill," Kazuya remarked, admiring the tenacity the brawler put up even against a veteran of the tournament such as Anna.

Jin gripped the hand rests on his seat with a noticeable hint of concern in his face. Aside from the tears in his eyes earlier, this was the most expression he showed during the whole match.

Kazuya stood up from his seat and made his way to the door.

"Where are you going?" Jin asked, though not out of any interest in his father's business. Kazuya stopped in his tracks.

"I will be greeting the victor of this match," he replied without turning to face his son. "Plus, as King of Iron Fist, you have a match to prepare for. As do I." Kazuya then knocked on the door for the guards outside to open, and left the suite.

* * *

Drained from all the beatings she took, Anna found herself in dire straits as her legs would not respond properly. Miguel was not in much better shape as he struggled to keep himself from pitching forward, yet from his vantage point, he was still standing, and therefore he could finish this match.

He just needed to move his feet…

The Spaniard hunched over, holding himself with both hands on his knees as he gasped for breath. "I swear… taking orders from that Baek Doo San was much more pleasant than this…" Miguel muttered.

With the haze partially lifted, Miguel straightened himself up, and ambled towards the brunette's crumpled body.

"Hehehehe…" he chuckled under his breath, his swagger nauseatingly arrogant. He turned his head to the roaring crowd and smirked, looking more composed as he got closer to his opponent. Clenching his right fist, Miguel mustered every ounce of strength left, intending to finish the match in a single blow.

Anna managed to roll herself on her back, though she could do little else. Remaining in this position, however, and there would be even less she could do.

Miguel's shadow loomed over her, his fist slowly raised. Timing was going to be very crucial, Anna told herself… if she could just will her body to move…

"I guess this is goodbye, yes?" Miguel sighed. Quickly, he brought his fist down at the brunette…

…and somehow, Anna managed to catch the arm in the last moment.

_What the – _

Using every ounce of strength in her nimble body, Anna carried his downward momentum forward and managed to flip the brawler onto his back. In one smooth motion, the Lightning Scarlet rolled to his right, and, wrapping her legs around his forearm, bellowed out a cry as she pulled on the limb with all her might.

_CRACK!_

"Argh!" Miguel screamed in pain.

Anna released her hold and rolled to her feet, wobbling especially given the effort it took to break that arm, yet nevertheless was able to stand. Miguel rolled on the ground, clutching his now broken arm in anguish. Feeling somewhat merciful towards the Spaniard, Anna shoved the brawler to his back and looked him squarely in the eye.

"Goodbye."

_CRUNCH!_

The brunette brought her foot down hard on the brawler's face with all her might and grinded her heel for good measure. The crying ceased right then and there, as Miguel's head lolled to the side.

Moments had passed, and Miguel remained unmoving.

"The winner!" the announcer suddenly shouted.

Anna looked to the air and acknowledged the cheers from the fans. Even when hurt, the brunette made it a point to celebrate with her adoring public, taking the time to walk out of the ring while pointing to the crowd.

"Thank you," she winked, the words coming out of her throat feeling heavy.

Moments after paramedics carted Miguel's body out of the ring, Anna decided to leave the ring and her worshippers, lifting her head up as she did so. She wanted to enjoy the attention just a little more, but time was ticking, and there were still other matches left…

…thus the moment she was away from the limelight, she collapsed.

"Seriously… the next time I ever complain about an easy match…" she gasped.

As she looked up, the space she laid in began to spin. Finally, the arena turned pitch black, and Anna fell into deep slumber.


	16. Stage 15

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 15_

After witnessing the match between Anna and Miguel, Kazuya wanted dearly in his mind to appreciate the opponent he had for his preliminary.

He tried hard, he really did.

As he entered the ring, however, one look was all it took for his newfound 'appreciation' to crumble. For one thing, his opponent was stupid.

"You're supposed to be Kazuya Mishima?"

Real stupid. Seven feet tall, four hundred pounds of stupid. Complete with beer belly.

"A puny little thing like you?"

For another, he insulted him. Seven feet tall, four hundred pounds of spittle and rotten teeth. Complete with bad breath.

"You don't look so tough."

And he was stupid. Seven feet tall, four hundred pounds of…

As far as the former G-Corporation CEO was concerned, the bigger they are, the dumber they get. The other saying is also true: the bigger they are, the harder they fall. Kazuya simply needed to wait for the right moment…

"Hold still, you runt!"

_Runt?_

With hands folded across his chest, Kazuya weaved his head, easily avoiding the man's fists with very little effort. A short, yet quick step to the side later, another punch barely missed his head by mere millimeters. The 'stupid man' (as Kazuya decided to call him) grunted in frustration, lunging at his smaller opponent only to grab at nothing but air. Kazuya for his part kept an even expression, though his temper frayed ever so gradually from every failed attempt to land a blow, along with a number of choice words coming out of the large man's mouth.

"I said hold still, coward!"

_Coward?_

Kazuya shook his head to himself. Calling him a stupid man would be an insult to stupid men everywhere, yet this was the only name Kazuya could come up with for this overgrown lummox…

"Too slow," he finally said, arms still folded.

The stupid man curled his lips into a snarl.

"You little…" he growled, and spat towards his opponent's direction. Much to the man's chagrin, Kazuya calmly crooked his head to the side, allowing even the wad of saliva to sail over his shoulder and land behind him.

Moments had passed, and the stupid man, as usual, still failed to land a single blow…

"Show me your best move," Kazuya offered.

The stupid man furrowed his brow apprehensively.

"If you have the energy to throw a tantrum, put that strength to better use and show me your best move," Kazuya pitched his offer again, this time holding his ground and holding his arms to the side.

As expected, the man licked his chops and, pulling his right arm back, threw his 'best move'. For once, the punch connected squarely on Kazuya's face, kicking up the surrounding dust, and sending a shockwave on the spot. The stupid man laughed triumphantly, ever proud and ever boastful of his might. Then the dust settled…

"Tell me this is not your best move."

Perplexed, the stupid man blinked twice, just to see if his eyes were deceiving him. The blow did indeed land, yet Kazuya stood in the same spot and took the punch without even a flinch. The look on the stupid man's face was priceless… and Kazuya could have sworn he smelled something pungent all of a sudden…

"Wha… how…"

"Fool…" Kazuya growled.

_CRUNCH!_

_THUMP!_

"The winner!" the announcer declared.

Kazuya stood over his fallen opponent with arms across his chest.

"Be glad you still have your life," the former G-Corporation CEO hissed at the unconscious man. "Your dignity, on the other hand," he scrunched his nose at the foul stench coming from the man, the notable stain around his pants growing larger, "I'm afraid there is nothing to be salvaged at the moment."

* * *

"You know, you could've made it look at least somewhat more entertaining," was the first thing to greet Kazuya upon returning to his suite. "Sure he was a fat piece of cow feces, but you could at least pretend he had some kind of chance. Even that Korean punk wasn't as mean as you."

Kazuya himself didn't bat an eyelash, disrobing his purple trench coat and resting it on the table as though no one was around.

"Look, you asked me to come here, and given the amount of trouble I had to go through to get past Soleil's security to meet you, the least you could do is say 'hello'."

"As a matter of fact, I have indeed requested your presence, Takeda," Kazuya admitted. "I also ponder whether your presence would be a welcome sight, or an absolute nuisance."

"Wow, you're really in a foul mood today, aren't you?" Takeda remarked while twirling his berettas casually in his hands. "Then again, is there a day when you're ever not in a foul mood?" he added while scratching his ruffled blue hair. "Other than sneakers, or that woman… uh… forget I said anything."

The former G-Corporation watched the pistol wielding ninja warily.

"There is something I need from you," he said. "Something that, unfortunately, requires your talents." Kazuya then handed Takeda an access card and a small disc. Takeda reached out to grab the items from his hand and examined them. "You will find the instructions in that disc."

"The usual stuff, huh?" the blue haired man smirked.

"Only you will be going much deeper," the former G-Corporation CEO added.

"How deep?"

"Level Omega, Order 717."

Takeda whistled. "The highest level?" he grinned. "You know I will be expecting equal payment for this."

"Name your price."

"Keep the white robes off my back, for starters," Takeda started ticking off with his fingers. "Finding the whereabouts of the Yoshimitsu sword and grant Minamoto and myself the necessary clearance to find and retrieve it. A new vehicle, preferably something better than that SUV (even if it was a BMW) to replace the old one. A bigger room for us to stay, especially given the work we will be doing for this assignment, minimum size… like the suite you're staying. Access to some of your stash of G-Corp weaponry and gadgets, specifically the 'Fat Cow' and your 'Blue Top' mini-frame. A minimum of ten naked babes in body paint, no fat chicks, please. Oh, and information on where zombie man is, along with Dr. Abel's research (if it's at all possible, of course)."

Kazuya furrowed his brow at the ninja.

"Oh, now come on, Kazuya," Takeda flipped his arms in the air. "Never mind that Minamoto and I risked our lives for your precious information the last time, you went and became the master's personal little ***** moments later, making most of the hard work we did _pointless_." Takeda paused, allowing the words to sink in. "Trust me, given we are going into the pits of hell and back again for the sake of this petty, carnal need to pump that _piston_ of yours, I am being reasonable here."

The former G-Corporation CEO snarled at the last remark.

"Seriously," Takeda said, making lewd gyrating motions with his pelvis to underline his statement. A small spark of hatred from Kazuya's red eye caused the blue haired man to stop. "Seriously…" he repeated.

Letting the insult slide, Kazuya pondered the demands in his head. "Your price is unacceptable, unless you find me a pair of Chuck Taylors." Stroking his chin thoughtfully, he added, "Specifically the ocean blue tiger striped design from 2012."

"Send me a five day supply of the best Tonkotsu and curry ramen to Minamoto with fresh flowers, the first bowl as down payment, and we'll call it even."

Kazuya pondered the price once again. "Patch my grey Airwalks as down payment and you have yourself a deal."

* * *

A chorus of boos and a few stifled cheers resounded as the King of Iron Fist stepped into the ring. Jin nearly allowed himself a smile, having been used to the hatred ever since the first time he put the Earth through his little war. He was, in fact, surprised that he didn't receive worse from the crowd.

Where were the arsonists? What happened to the assassination attempts? Were the death threats merely a bunch of words? Why only water bottles? Why not grenades? Or at the very least, why not use sharp objects? Devil Gene or not, he put the world through the brink of destruction and nearly plummeted the economy into a sinkhole, and all he got were a bunch of boos and insults?

Clearly he hadn't tried hard enough.

_Jin…_

He wasn't exactly dressed appropriately for a match. Jin remained in his extravagant suit since he had awoken, and found himself too rushed to dress in his trademark gi pants. Then again, Jin wasn't in much of a mood to fight in the tournament itself, and likely would have remained in his exquisite enclosure had it not been for his guards' insistence (which involved pointing their machineguns at his face), not to mention a few motivational words from his grandfather (which mostly consisted of words such as 'fight in the tournament, or _insert-random-name_ will die' and other notable threats).

_Save me…_

Jin kept a neutral expression, yet a sweat drop trickled from his forehead. He tuned out the crowd, trying to focus his attention at the gate opposite from where he had entered. The gate where his opponent waited…

_Please…_

His head, however, began to throb violently. The pain wasn't gradual; it hit him suddenly like a sledgehammer, and continued to pound in his skull repeatedly. His collar, a piece of ornate metal that was meant to seal his Devil powers, began to burn his neck.

_You're our only hope…_

Meanwhile, the audience continued to heckle him, yet Jin wasn't paying any attention to them. Between the drumming in his head, and the flaring sensation around his throat, it was a miracle that he didn't drop to his knees in anguish…

_Save me…_

He clenched his fists till his knuckles cracked, yet still he felt no relief, nor did the pounding did not stop. Jin gritted his teeth, his nostrils flared as he raised his hands to cover his face. He pressed his fingertips against his head as though trying to squeeze the pain out of his brain.

_Save us, Jin… please… save us…_

"Shut… up!"

And then there was silence.

What felt like eternity had passed, to which Jin finally removed his hands from his face. He looked around the crowd, and he felt every eye in the audience stare at him in a stunned stupor. It only took a couple of seconds for the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO to realize what just happened.

_Oh dear_, he thought. _Was I really that loud?_ His face began to flush a light crimson. _Now everyone must really think I've gone mad…_

"Uh…" the voice of the announcer stuttered nervously. He turned his head away from the microphone and cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen," he continued. "His opponent… Panda!"

_What!_

Slowly, the gate opens. Lumbering into the ring, a rotund ball of black and white fluff staggered towards Jin. It was decidedly female, if only because of the colorful bracelets worn around its paws. From the stumpy hind quarters, the plump torso, the cherubic, round face, dark patches on its eyes, and the small fuzzy black ears, the creature before him had an almost perpetual smile strewn on her muzzle. Indeed, one would think this walking mass of fur was typically a tranquil animal… save for the jagged teeth and sharp claws on her paws. Then there was the disturbing fact that, on her hind legs, the beast stood a little over nine feet tall, massive even for one of her species. It brings a whole new meaning to the name, 'giant panda'.

There was another problem. Aside from the occasional fits of irritation or anger, partially due to her protective nature over her hyperactive owner and best friend, partially due to the unwanted advances of another member of the Ursidae family, the giant panda named… Panda… was otherwise a happy, gentle creature at heart. Now, on the other hand... The rather awkward movement indicated a certain shakiness to her steps, very nervous in poise, as though she was upset. No, upset would be an understatement… distraught was a more apt description, especially given the look in her eyes.

And… there was the trembling in her shoulders, the look of shame on her face, and the moisture on the fur around her eyes… she was crying… wailing to herself… It broke Jin's heart to see Panda like this, looking so tormented.

"Panda…" he called out her name.

The creature reacted to his voice, yet couldn't bring herself to look Jin in the eye.

"Panda, what's wrong?" Jin slowly stepped forward.

"Fight!"

Jin angrily glared at the referee, who merely shrugged his shoulders in response. Despite the match officially beginning, however, Jin and Panda remained stationary. The crowd roared excitedly in anticipation, and yet neither opponent made a move to attack the other. Moments later, the audience went from cheering to grumbling with one another, utterly confused as to the lack of action within the ring. Then the crowd began to boo mercilessly, chanting for either opponent to do something.

"Panda, look at me," Jin prodded the bear gently.

The giant panda still couldn't bring herself to look at him in spite of his plea. Panda, curling on the ground, whimpered quietly to herself.

"Please," Jin pleaded to her. "Look at me."

Panda finally willed herself to look at Jin, and the eyes sent chills down his spine. He could see more than just sadness, but also a cold sense of dread in them, almost haunting.

"Oh my gosh," Jin gaped. "What have they done to you?"

Panda sniffed back her tears and stared sorrowfully to Jin's eyes. She let out a few short grunts, the tone coming across as regret… as though she was saying, "I'm sorry."

And then she attacked.

Jin barely reacted as he stepped back just out of reach of her long, swiping paws. Panda swiped at the King of Iron Fist champion hard and fast, each time missing him within mere inches. Jin, in spite of her sudden aggression towards him, could not bring himself to attack the bear. Even with Mishima blood in his veins, he realized the dangerous game he was in by playing the pacifist, especially against a nine foot bear (with martial arts training, no less… something even Jin grudgingly acknowledged of Heihachi, taking wild animals and adding fighting techniques to an already formidable arsenal provided by mother nature herself… of course, Panda herself was no ordinary panda bear to begin with).

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt his conscious scream that he needed to fight back… and yet his heart told him he couldn't…

In the background, the audience let out a hysterical cheer, demanding to see Jin's blood spilled in the ring.

"Rargh!" Panda cried out, swiping at her opponent with four consecutive blows with her right paw. Jin weaved and sidestepped out of the way, then jumped back as the giant panda lunged forward while swiping down with both paws. Panda continued her offence, delivering consecutive swipes aimed at Jin's legs, all of which were avoided as expected, feigned an attack high, then shot her right paw upwards into the bear equivalent of an uppercut.

_Damn!_ Jin cursed in his head, as the claws ripped through the front of his suit as he managed to avoid taking the brunt of her attack. Small trickles of blood oozed from the claw marks on his chest, though the wounds were not deep enough to be of concern.

Now Panda went down on all fours, momentarily pausing in her attacks. Meanwhile, Jin squared his body at the bear, though his hands still remained low to his waist, maintaining a defensive posture. He gazed into Panda's eyes, and felt that same chilling sensation as before. It wasn't just the immense pain that haunted him; it was also the burning thought that he saw those eyes before…

_Jin…_

The pain in his head returned, albeit significantly less intense, and more like a dull throb. In his brief moment of distraction, Panda pounced.

_CRASH!_

Panda landed a solid blow with her claws, knocking Jin backwards. In spite of her large mass, the much smaller Jin managed to maintain his balance and remained steady on his feet. Unfortunately, this balance would work against him as the massive black and white animal landed a strong blow with her right. With Jin's body now open, Panda reared her head back and clamped down on his left shoulder with her jaw.

_CRUNCH!_

"Argh!" Jin cried out in pain as blood began to stain his suit. Tightening her vice-like grip, Panda lifted him off his feet with her mouth and shook her head in a heated frenzy, his body hitting the floor several times, before tossing him into the sky like a large piece of meat. Jin's body flailed in the air for what felt like minutes and, before he knew it, landed onto the ring, tumbling along the ground before coming to a complete stop. He laid on the ground in a twisted heap, beaten, battered, and bloodied.

Disgusted with herself, Panda swiped at her mouth, trying desperately to remove the taste of blood from her maw.

The audience, on the other hand, roared with approval, demanding the bear Jin's head on a platter.

"Ugh…" Jin groaned, grabbing at his bloodied shoulder with his right hand. Slowly, he lifted his head up and looked at the bear.

_Save us…_

"Shut up…" he grunted between gritted teeth.

Meanwhile, Panda had to deal with a distraction of her own as the crowd continued pouring their venomous demands for more blood. The bear, darting her eyes back and forth to the audience, trembled in anguish. She looked down on the ground, burying her head with her paws in a feeble attempt to drown out their voices. Unable to take the noise, Panda suddenly reared her head back and bellowed out a loud, terrible roar.

"Panda…"

The bear turned her head to the direction of the struggling voice. Jin was back on his feet, albeit hunched over from nursing his wounds. Perspiration covered his face, his expression twisted into exhaustion as he struggled to maintain some semblance of calm. Man and beast both looked at each other, the voices of the crowd momentarily tuned out.

Panda whined quietly, the tone seemingly of deep regret. Jin smiled sadly at the bear and shook his head.

"Don't worry about it," Jin rasped. Bracing himself, he looked Panda straight in the eye once more, into those melancholic, chilling eyes…

…eyes whose expression seemed all too familiar…

…like he saw it in a dream…

…a nightmare with flames…

…or was it a nightmare?

"Xiaoyu…" he uttered the name.

The visage of the hyperactive pixie girl with twin tails entered his vision as he spoke…

…and his mind finally clicked.

The giant panda winced at the sound of that name, and looked away with remorse.

"Something happened to her…" he said. "Something… terrible…"

Panda's massive frame shook as fresh new tears dripped out of her eyes, soaking her muzzle.

"Heihachi… he did something to her… didn't he?"

The bear's body language was all that Jin needed to confirm his suspicions. The two opponents stood there in silence.

With that revelation, the voices of the crowd returned, echoing their displeasure all too audibly.

"It's not your fault…" he whispered solemnly. "Whatever Soleil did… whatever Heihachi did… it was not your fault…" As the words trailed from his mouth, Jin slowly felt himself rejuvenated. "You… you are her best friend… and a great bodyguard…" the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO raised his head, "Xiaoyu would be proud of you."

Straightening himself, Jin released his grip on his shoulder and squared his body. With legs parted, Jin brought his hands up, his stained right hand kept near the torso while his left arm extended outward. "Come on…" he beckoned with a gesture of his head.

The bear, amusingly, raised her brow at her opponent. Several seconds had passed…

"Xiaoyu would be sad to see you acting like this," Jin soothingly pleaded to the bear. "Let's give the viewers what they want."

With those words, a large weight was lifted from her heavily burdened shoulders. Regret and sadness still remained, yet the thought of her owner saddened by her depression spurred her on. Standing on her hind quarters, Panda hunched her massive torso forward and dangled her paws forward, adopting her own 'fighting stance'.

The audience jeered loudly from the stands, demanding they 'hurry up'.

With his eyes still on his opponent, Jin gave the audience a smirk.

Then he attacked.

Panda, in spite of her girth, managed to step back to avoid Jin's first flurry of punches, then raise her paws to block the next volley of attacks. Though blood continued to pour from his shoulder, Jin clenched his teeth to take his mind off the pain and pressed his assault, delivering perfectly executed strikes and kicks. Timing his attacks, Panda threw out her left paw and connected with Jin's right fist, the blows nullifying each other. Then, Panda began swiping her paws at Jin in a counterattack of her own.

To say the match looked unusual would be an understatement. After all, it is a match between a man with demonic genes versus a nine foot panda bear. No one could decide what was weirder, the fact that a man was holding his own even after he got mauled on the shoulder, or the fact that a giant bear was using martial arts against the man. Regardless, to the onlookers in the stands, it was still pure entertainment, as the cries of chants and cheers echoed all over the ring.

Jin dodged and weaved through the bear's swipes, looking for an opening to pass through the giant panda's superior reach. Panda growled and extended her right claw at her opponent, to which Jin seized the opportunity to dodge the attack and stepped closer where the animal would not be able to utilize her range. Just as Jin threw out a straight with his right hand, Panda hopped backwards and extended her short, stubby right leg.

_Oh… right… you know how to kick,_ Jin chided himself, as his punch was nullified. Again, he reminded himself, Heihachi trained her well… and she was no ordinary bear…

Panda grunted as she made a quick, downward swipe at the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO in an attempt to crush the man under her paw. Jin sidestepped quickly and, taking a small dash forward, delivered a quick uppercut with his left arm, hitting the animal squarely to the jaw. Panda reeled from the blow… as did Jin, who grimaced in pain from the bleeding shoulder. Panda fell on her back, momentarily winded, and quickly rolled away from Jin's following attack. The slight pause in Jin's execution of his next move, a stomp with his right foot, allowed Panda to completely avoid taking the hit, and get back on her feet.

The bear eyed his wounded shoulder worriedly. Jin, on the other hand, shook his head dismissively.

"Worry about winning this match," he told her flatly.

Reluctant at first, Panda nodded her head in understanding. Though they may share a kind of friendship, they were also opponents.

The large animal went down on all fours and backed away slowly to gain some distance. Jin gradually inched forward, studying the bear intently, waiting to see what she would do. Grunting, she lurched forward, making an apparent swipe with her left paw. Jin stepped away and, dashing forward, was about to throw his signature right hook. Reacting quickly, however, Panda managed to duck low and, with right forelimb extended, struck Jin hard on his wounded shoulder.

"Ah!" Jin cried out in pain, tumbling on his feet as he began to nurse his shoulder once more. Heihachi's training, not an ordinary bear, etcetera, etcetera…

Now in a vulnerable position, Panda stepped forward on her hind legs, and began swiping with her paws.

_CRUNCH!_

First with the left paw across the right side of his head.

_CRUNCH!_

Then the right paw to the opposite side.

_CRUNCH!_

Followed by yet another with the left.

_CRUNCH!_

And another with the right.

_CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH!_

Blood mixed with saliva flew from his mouth as the bear expertly landed blow after blow. The assault stopped, as Jin staggered on his feet. Then, rearing back, Panda lunged, and tackled him with all her strength. Jin felt his body roll back several feet, and landed hard on his front.

"Ugh…" Jin crawled back on his feet, shaking the cobwebs out of his head. That was when he noticed a large shadow heading towards him. Immediately, he leapt to the side, and managed to avoid getting crushed underneath Panda's sit down splash. Jin rolled further along and hopped back on his feet, only to crumple in agony as his shoulder screamed from the exertion.

Back on all fours, Panda charged on all fours, closing the distance between the two in a matter of seconds. Scrambling back to his feet, Jin planted himself firmly to the ground, baring his teeth while nursing his left shoulder. Panda pounced hard, which Jin barely managed to avoid. Spinning on all fours, the bear twisted her body around and, rearing on her hind legs, made a massive swipe with her right paw, intended for his left shoulder.

Jin cursed in his head as he caught the massive paw with both hands, the limb merely an inch from landing. Grunting with effort, Jin balanced on his left leg, while delivering two crushing kicks to the bear's head with the right. Then, biting down hard, he twisted his body around and, using his body as a fulcrum, tossed the massive bear over his shoulder and slammed her to the ground.

"Arrrrrrrrrrrgh!" Jin cried out as the red viscous fluid completely drenched the left side of his upper torso.

Mounting the bear, Jin began pummeling the animal's head with vicious lefts and rights, gritting his teeth hard in another attempt to ignore the searing pain. Unable to resist the pain any further, Jin staggered back to his feet, hunching over slightly with his left arm hanging limp. For all his strength and resilience, the King of Iron Fist knew he needed to end the match quickly before his body gives out from the blood loss alone.

Dazed, Panda slowly ambled to her feet, shaking off the haze. Her vision cleared, yet she still heard ringing in her ears…

…no, not ringing… crackling… like static…

Sensing impending danger, Panda twisted her head to the side, and saw lightning emanating from Jin's body, and gradually gathering towards his right arm. Jin looked at the bear apologetically as he reared back his right hand.

"Sorry," he said.

_CRUNCH!_

The blow struck Panda squarely in the torso, red electricity snaking throughout the bear's body as she toppled over backwards and landed on her back. The audience gasped in shock, the impact of the punch felt by all. Even a nine foot tall panda bear could not withstand such a blow for long…

Trembling on her forelimbs, Panda lifted her body up in an attempt to bring herself to a sitting position. Jin stood poised with his right hand raised in a defensive stance. With a quiet groan, Panda's forelimbs buckled under her weight, and she collapsed on the ground.

"The winner!"

With the announcer's proclamation, Jin finally relaxed and collapsed on his knees. A chorus of raucous boos and insults followed as paramedics rushed out to treat the wounded fighters. Jin pushed the paramedics away, demanding that they treated the bear first while crawling towards the massive body of his fallen opponent.

"Panda…" he whispered her name, resting his right hand on the bear's head.

Slowly, the bear began to stir, a quiet moan escaping her lips. Jin smiled with relief, thankful to whatever deity watching from the heavens that the bear was alright. After all, she was no ordinary panda bear. Not at all…

Panda turned her head towards Jin and whined. There was an unmistakable sense of relief in the bear's face, as though she was glad to have lost. Tears welled up in her eyes as the sadness returned.

"Hey, what did I say to you before?" Jin reprimanded the bear. "Would Xiaoyu be happy to see you like this?"

With that reminder, Panda willed herself to stop crying, not wishing to upset her owner, even if she was no longer around.

_Remarkable…_ he thought.

Outwardly, Jin remained composed, pouring himself out in order to cheer the animal up. Inwardly, however, he felt tormented. He had killed many innocents in his quest to rid the world of evil. They say killing would get much easier the more he does it… as far as Jin was concerned, whoever said that needed to be shot… pun intended. And now, because of his actions, he lost a good friend… a friend he had taken for granted, and would never see again… The guilt he had felt throughout the match finally weighed on him, threatening to crack…

Jin was shaken out of his reverie as a mass of black fur rested on his right hand. A spark of concern could be seen in her eyes as she quietly grunted at her friend. Jin crooked his head to the side, and laughed.

"I should start listening to my own advice," he muttered sheepishly. Smiling warmly, he patted the bear's paw. "You did well," Jin nodded his head. "She would definitely be proud of you."

Panda turned her head to the sky and gazed upwards. Closing her teary eyes, for the first time in a long time, she finally allowed herself to smile…

_Yes… she would definitely be proud of you…_


	17. Stage 16

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 16_

On the second day of the tournament, Nina was ordered by the master to meet him in one of the laboratories. Obediently, she complied.

Nina remembered her first match rather vividly, yet felt absolutely nothing. No joy, no sorrow, no, bliss, no remorse.

Nothing.

She definitely recalled the opponent she fought. A man around his late thirties of Indian descent, five foot seven or eight inches, a hundred fifty six… no, a hundred and fifty seven pounds, medium sized build with a slight bulge on his belly, short, curly dark hair covering his scalp, and aside from the dark pants and bandages around his hands, he wore no other distinguishing article of clothing. And though he was clearly trained in hand to hand combat judging by the way he carried himself, the man looked rather unremarkable.

In fact, the man looked out of place, like he truly doesn't belong in a no-holds barred tournament, much less an Iron Fist tournament.

And she felt nothing.

"Fight!" cried out the referee. And like an obedient dog, she attacked.

Her opponent put up quite the struggle, that much she knew. The Irish woman managed to draw first blood with a blow to the face, and he recovered enough to defend her next blow. She directed her kick to his solar plexus, and he managed to block that move. She aimed her strike to the jugular, and though he reeled slightly from her previous move, he still raised his hands to block that blow. A couple more kicks later, he fell on his rump, and still managed to avoid getting stomped under her heel.

While unable to put up any offence, the man was able to avoid getting hit by her most devastating moves, though some of her minor attacks would manage to get past his defenses. If nothing else, the man had tenacity, if nothing else. One would applaud a man for such an effort while facing someone who was clearly out of his league.

And she still felt nothing.

And there were the sounds during the match. Aside from the referee and the announcer, there was also the sounds of the crowd cheering from the stands. Stomping their feet on the ground, slapping their hands against the rails, shouting in the air for their voices to be heard.

And, of course, the eventual sounds of bones breaking in her grip.

She recalled vividly the screams of the man after snapping his arm like a twig, followed by the crunch of his body hitting the ground. The screaming only grew louder as she broke his other arm. The crowd cheered at the gruesome display of violence as the blonde dismantled her opponent bit by bit. A broken rib here, a broken nose there, a couple of bruises on the chest, some blood spurting from a gash, and some missing teeth for good measure…

And she still felt nothing.

Time had passed by quickly, though for her hapless opponent, the brutality felt more like hours, as Nina mercilessly stomped on his chest. Even then, his screams rang out throughout the ring, audible even within the chorus of cheers from the crowd. Resilience would be considered a strength; here, it was a curse as the man felt every part of his body cry out in searing hot pain. Nina was well aware of this as she watched the man bleed from his mouth.

And she still felt absolutely nothing.

Finally, just when no one thought the man would stop screaming, Nina ended his suffering with a hard chop between the shoulder and the neck. The man crumpled to the ground and passed out.

"The winner!"

She remembered the catcalls and cheers as she stood above her fallen opponent.

As she would come to realize, the man she fought was one of the many people hard on their luck since the fall of the Mishima Zaibatsu and G-Corporation. It was a miracle that the economy did not fall into a deep depression, especially given the sway those companies held. Still, the damage was done. Many businesses fell as a result, people were laid off from their jobs, and without any source of income, many were also forced out of their homes. With mouths to feed and nowhere else to turn, people became desperate. Some began selling illegal substances. Some took in loans from loan sharks. Some began committing crimes. Some turned to prostitution.

And for the truly insane, some, like this man, gambled their lives in a bloody tournament in hopes of making it big and pay off their debts. Probably a family man at that, one with a wife and kids. Even as an assassin, Nina should find such prospects revolting, especially since he wasn't even a mark…

…and yet she still felt nothing, even after a day had passed. All that mattered was that the master commanded her, and she needed to obey…

Thus came the next day.

Lead by a man in white robes, she walked along the corridors of the complex, passing through one security checkpoint to the next. Before entering the next corridor, a blindfold was given to her and she was ordered to cover her eyes with it. Obediently, she complied.

In the darkness, Nina could not tell where she was going save that she was simply walking. She felt a pair of hands turn her around and gently sit her down. A few moments later, she felt movement… a vehicle of sorts…

After a short trip, the vehicle stopped. She was told to stand up, and with the help of a few hands, she complied. Lead through what can be assumed as another maze of hallways and corridors, she was finally jolted to a stop. Her blindfold removed, Nina found herself in a dimly lit room surrounded by thick glass. Outside the glass, she could see people in lab coats as well as security personnel guarding the perimeter. In the middle of the room was a metallic chair with metal restraints for the wrists, ankles, and neck, as well as a mechanical contraption seemingly designed to be worn over the head.

The blonde was ordered to sit on the chair. Obediently, she complied.

She watched listlessly as one of the lab technicians placed the restraints around her wrists, ankles, and neck. Nina didn't budge, not even flinch as she felt the cold, hard metal rub against her skin. With restraints locked in, the mechanical contraption was placed over her head, and with a light buzz…

"Blarrrrrrrrrrrgh!"

Nina threw up dry heaves as all the mental and physical stress suddenly caught up to her. Her eyes were moist with tears, her chin a mess of sticky saliva and sweat, her body filled with sensations ranging from pin pricks to searing sharp pain, and all the emotions and personality that was initially suppressed came crashing.

Including the fact she came close to killing an ordinary man. Possibly a family man, whose contributions to society would be much more beneficial than anything she had ever done…

"You are taking this quite well, all things considering," Heihachi's voice echoed within the glass cage.

Nina continued to retch, the restraints the only thing keeping her from falling over as she struggled agonizingly in her seat. Colors of every imaginable spectrum flickered and vibrated in her mind.

An eternity had passed. The Irish woman's convulsions had since subsided, though the anguish still remained fresh. Wheezing for air, Nina shivered in her seat, willing herself to relax…

"Do you feel better?"

Nina glared, yet was unable to speak. Her throat was dry, and she felt drained from her ordeal.

"My… apologies for this kind of treatment," Heihachi continued. The burly old man walked across her field of vision, and stood off to her side with arms folded.

The Silent Assassin wanted badly to choke her assailant with her bare hands and break his neck in two. And that was being very kind.

Heihachi motioned one of the robed men towards him. "Remarkable," he said, admiring the man like an artist admiring a sculpture. "At first glance, you would not be able to tell the difference between an ordinary human, and a wooden puppet."

In one deft motion, Heihachi removed the hood from the robed man, revealing the scalp underneath. At first glance, there was nothing out of the ordinary until one took a closer look; parts of the scalp looked rough and wrinkled, appearing almost as though the skin was made of tree bark, and right on the top of his head was a symbol emblazoned in gold.

"As you can see, my 'marionette army' is a continuous work in progress, but they have done a superb job in furthering my goals," Heihachi explained. "Utilizing the same kind of enchanted wood as used in the creation of the 'Mokujin', I discovered a way to infuse them with my own power, and control them by my will. With these marionettes under my spell, I was able to defeat and capture many fighters from around the world, and use them in the completion of Hanako."

_Hanako!_

"So you've met her already," Heihachi remarked, the expression in her face as clear as night and day. "Good. Then I don't need to explain too much. All you need to know is that she is the culmination of years of research, hundreds of failures, lives even lost, all this for the betterment of mankind."

Nina scoffed, her voice barely above a whisper, yet audible enough to be heard.

"Mock all you want, but Hanako is the future. Soon, my dream will finally come to fruition, a world united as one under my power, my will, and with Hanako by my side, no one can stop my coming, not the governments, not you, not even Kazuya or Jin." Heihachi walked next to Nina and leaned over her shoulder. "But enough about my goals. You need your rest."

Anger flared in Nina's eyes as she struggled to speak.

"I beg your pardon?" Heihachi leaned closer.

Nina's lips trembled slightly as she spoke.

"Excuse me?" the master leaned forward a little more.

Nina licked her dry lips and cleared her throat.

"****… you," she said.

Heihachi's body shook heartily with laughter.

"Is that all you wish to say?" he asked, his voice still filled with amusement. "Still, I do have my reasons for choosing you to serve me. Especially since you had… experience in such matters in the past."

Nina had a bewildered look in her expression the moment Heihachi's final statement rolled out of his mouth.

"As strong as my marionettes have been, even their uses are limited," Heihachi admitted. "While an ordinary man or woman would fall under their strength, a much higher caliber fighter such as yourself is ultimately stronger in the long run. You, like some of the fighters in this tournament, are a rare find, one that embodies the virtues of a true warrior. And like any gifted warrior such as yourself, I doubt you would simply bow down to serve me. It would save me the trouble, but nothing in this world is ever convenient. Thus… the methods which you see here."

"My control is not absolute, nor are they perfect. Most have died simply from the overwhelming stress induced by my influence, even while using the crown to ease the mind back to normal," he continued, tapping his hand against the 'helmet' around her head. "Since you were also the only person to have been under mind control in the past, I believed that the chances of surviving my… crude methods of control would be much higher with you than anyone else. I am glad to see that I have been correct so far."

The master and CEO of Soleil Inc. turned to one of his technicians and nodded.

"We shall see if we will have continued success in the next few hours," Heihachi said. "For now, rest."

Before Nina could make any sort of protest, a gentle weight pressed against her exhausted frame. Slowly, she felt her consciousness drift before finally falling into a deep sleep.

* * *

"Hey, Minamoto! Mind if I come in?"

The red haired woman nearly choked in her ramen as she quickly finished the last of her meal.

"Not that it ever stopped you before," Minamoto replied hoarsely. "Come in."

"Check it out, check it out!" Takeda entered the room excitedly, holding a case in his hand. "Can you guess what this is?" he added, sweeping his hand over the case in a grand gesture like a game show host. "Guess! Guess! Guess! Guess! Guess!"

Minamoto squinted her eyes at the large, black object and shrugged.

"You are no fun," Takeda pouted, then ran excitedly to the bed and plopped the heavy case onto the mattress. Opening the case like a child unwrapping a present, he flipped the lid over and spun the case around for his partner to see. "I present to you, the 'Grand Poobah'! The biggest, baddest, fattest Fat Cow ever! Possesses enough firepower to level mountains, yet small and compact enough to be carried by hand! Easy to install, easy to use, and comes with mint flavored toothpicks." Rubbing his hands excitedly, he chuckled, "Hehehe, our brothers from the rest of the clan would blow a gasket if they see this! Uh… whatever a gasket is."

Minamoto stared at the contents in the case in disbelief. "Are you insane?"

"Yes!" he answered while pumping his fist triumphantly.

The red haired woman rolled her eyes. "How did you even manage to get that past security?"

"With raw sex appeal!" he proudly pointed his index finger in the air.

"I… don't even want to know…" Minamoto blinked. "Really, why are you carrying this!"

"For our mission, of course," the blue haired ninja replied. "Given what we had the last time and where we're heading now, we need something bigger. Something that won't die so quickly like the cheap harpoon gun we had… along with the other bargain basement knockoffs that nearly got me _killed_."

"You bought them, I didn't, and again, are you insane!" she asked flabbergasted. "Are you trying to bring the whole city down on our heads!"

"You think it might be overkill?"

Minamoto looked at her partner with hands on her hips.

"Seriously?" he asked.

A slight twitch of the eye was all Takeda the answer he needed.

"Oh, but come on!" he pleaded. "It's the grandmother of mother of papa's big bang! Wait, that didn't sound right. Whatever, point being, it makes a big bang!" The blue haired man gestured with his hands while pretending to make exploding noises. "Pew, pew, pew, pew, pew, kaboom! Boom-boom-boom-_boom_! BLARRRRRGH! Hehehe… bang."

"No."

"It would be so worth it."

"I want to live, so no."

"Hey, you only get to live once."

"And, again, I would like to live, and remain as such for a long, long time, so no."

Takeda pleaded to his partner with his eyes. Minamoto merely gave him a scowl. This back and forth staring contest remained that way for two minutes…

"How about we bet on this?" he deadpanned. "If I win, we get to use the gun – "

"No."

" – and you have to wear the black dress!"

"No!" she snapped, pushing the blue haired man out the door with case in hand.

"But… but you haven't heard what would happen if you win – "

"No!" she repeated, shoving her partner with all her might.

"You win, I won't use the gun, and _I_ would wear the black dress!"

"No! _Hell_ no!" she added with emphasis.

"And I treat you to – no, _feed_ you some more ramen for the whole month! The curry kind that you love so much!"

The red haired woman paused for a moment to consider his unusual bet.

"I'll wear the dress, too!"

"No!" she hollered, and pushed her partner out of the suite. "Get rid of that thing, and find something that won't get us both killed! Preferably something smaller!" Minamoto shoved the large case against Takeda's arms, and promptly slammed the door shut.

"Meany!" Takeda hollered back through the door.

* * *

Minamoto laid comfortably on the large, luxurious bed while downing another bowl of noodles.

_KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!_

"What!" she cried out in annoyance, nearly choking in her meal for the second time.

"Has remaining with that Manji ninja made you forget your manners, Minamoto?"

The red haired woman's blood froze at the voice from the other side of the door.

"No… no!" she stuttered.

Quickly, she finished off the remains of her ramen, placed the bowl next to the lamp, and straightened herself before opening the door. Waiting at the door stood… an unremarkable looking bell boy. Tall, slim build, red uniform well pressed, dark hair cut short and well groomed, definitely unremarkable… save for the small scar across the bridge of his nose…

"Brother," she greeted the man courteously. "My apologies for my earlier behavior."

The bell boy pulled off his hat and sniffed the air in the suite.

"Sister," he returned the greeting. "No apologies needed. Given the fact you were partnered with that Manji fool for months, even the most patient of us would lose their sanity." The bell boy sniffed again. "And… is that… pork and curry I smell?"

Minamoto felt her face burn with embarrassment.

"Get yourself properly dressed," the man changed the subject. "Mother wishes to see you."

"Mother?" she blinked. "What for?"

The bell boy was already walking down the hall. "We will meet you back at home," he said.

* * *

The red haired woman felt comfortable in her familiar uniform; a black, form fitting outfit, complete with an intricately designed yet light body armor hugging her upper torso, a pair of layered gauntlets around her forearms, simple yet elegant pauldrons around the shoulders, and segmented greaves to protect the wearer's thighs. Covering her face was an equally intricate, ornate mask, designed mainly for concealment of the wearer's identity than protection (though it is quite durable), molded and colored to resemble a demoness with six eyes.

The location Minamoto went to was surprisingly close, yet still isolated enough from the rest of the city for her 'mother' to avoid the public eye. Trees filled much of the surroundings, virtually hiding much of the ground below from sight. As far as the terrain itself was concerned, it was filled mostly with muddy earth and jagged rocks, with little in the way of paths for an ordinary person to walk on. With a forest too dense for vehicles to travel through, and earth difficult for a person to traverse, combined with the distance, none but the toughest would dare travel such an untamed wilderness alone.

For a kunoichi such as herself, on the other hand, the rough terrain and dense forestation provided little to no challenge for her as she hopped from tree branch to tree branch. The rocky slopes and muddy terrain was mere child's play to run through.

After what seemed like an endless stream of trees and rocks, Minamoto reached a small clearing with a stream running through the forest. Situated comfortably in the middle of the clearing was a small, simple wooden hut, complete with shingled roof made of fine stones and paper windows. The appearance of the hut is decidedly traditional Japanese, a place more for ceremony than to live in.

Most unusual, however, was not the hut itself, but what was next to it: an old, rundown blue Cadillac with its hood popped up and driver side door opened. How such a vehicle managed to get through the thick bog of dirt, the rough terrain of jagged stones, or the dense swarm of trees and shrubbery was a mystery, never mind the fact the sight of the car clashed with the rest of its natural surroundings, yet there it was, within a stone's throw away from Mother Nature. From the hood, a woman clad in an oily shirt, baseball cap, and baggy jeans stood leaning towards the engine with one hand in the car's innards.

"Come on, come on, come on…" the woman pleaded to the vehicle as another man from the driver's side started the ignition. The Cadillac choked and sputtered momentarily, struggling to come to life. "Come on, come on, come on…" the voice pleaded again. A few more gagging chokes of the engine, and the vehicle sputtered and died. "Damn…"

"Mother," Minamoto approached the beat up vehicle while removing her mask.

"Ouch!" the woman bumped her head on the hood. Startled, Minamoto yelped and covered her mouth.

"I'm sorry!" Minamoto gasped, running towards the woman while the man in the vehicle jumped to the woman's aid. "I'm so sorry, mother – "

The woman raised her hand. Right away, Minamoto fell silent.

"You startled me, child," the woman said. She patted the man aiding her on the forearm in assurance. "Next time, don't sneak up on me like that."

"Understood," Minamoto replied, and knelt down on one knee in reverence.

Wiping the grime from her face, the woman walked over to the kneeling Minamoto and next to the red haired kunoichi. She pulled off her baseball cap and shook her head, revealing an equally fiery mane of her own, and held Minamoto in an embrace.

"Welcome home, my daughter," Kunimitsu smiled.

* * *

The young kunoichi sat next to a pond, watching the leaves float on the surface. She dipped a finger into the cool, refreshing water while the soothing sounds of a nearby waterfall put her mind at ease. A small blossom caught the corner of her eye, and Minamoto couldn't help but pick up the delicate flower in her hand. Brushing at the pink petals with her fingertips, the red haired woman looked at the reflection of herself, and placed the flower on her head in admiration.

"I think it suits you as well," Kunimitsu watched in admiration.

Surprised by her mother's voice, Minamoto quickly dropped the blossom back into the pond, and shot up on her feet.

"Mother," she began. "I… I did not hear you coming."

"Neither did I, so that makes us even," Kunimitsu replied with a mischievous grin. The elder kunoichi had since changed out of her grimy clothes and into an elaborate red and white kimono with elegantly designed floral patterns along the sleeves and the length of the garment. The most prominent design on the outfit was a fox strewn on the back, seemingly in a playful mood within the patterned garden of blossoms.

Minamoto watched tensely as her mother sashayed towards the pond and gracefully settled on her side. She playfully stirred the water with her hand, staring at the leaves floating along, brushing one of her ponytails with a delicate stroke of her hand.

"Why look so nervous?" she motioned to her daughter. "Come. Sit down."

The younger kunoichi hesitated, then nervously knelt beside her mother, staring blankly into the water. The two women listened to the waterfall, mesmerized by its tranquil sound.

"Why have you summoned me?" Minamoto asked.

Kunimitsu laughed quietly. "It has been months since I had you placed in the Manji Clan. I wanted to see how my favorite daughter is doing." Leaning on her hands, she looked warmly into Minamoto's eyes and asked, "How have you been?"

Minamoto looked away from her mother and bit her lower lip nervously. "I'm doing fine," she said. "None in the Manji Clan have suspected my allegiance or my mission. Though I have yet to obtain the Yoshimitsu sword, thanks to both Takeda and Mr. Mishima, I will know the whereabouts of the blade and retrieve it for you before the tournament ends."

"And I have every confidence in you in succeeding, but that wasn't what I asked," Kunimitsu stated calmly.

Minamoto nearly blanched. "But I thought that was why I've been summoned, to update you of my mission."

"If that was the case, I wouldn't bother asking you to come home in the first place," her mother explained. "I have messengers for that purpose… or cell phones for that matter. The plan I got is quite a bargain. Either way, I would not have you pulled away from your mission all for the sake of a simple report." Her eyes shimmered from the water's reflection. "So I ask you again, how have you been?"

Minamoto looked at her mother anxiously.

"As I said, I'm doing fine."

"You don't _seem_ fine," Kunimitsu countered gently.

Minamoto looked back at the gentle waterfall, finding herself unable to face her mother. She let out a deep sigh.

"It's been… lonely… these past few months," she relented.

Kunimitsu inclined her head slightly. "Is that so?"

The younger kunoichi fiddled her fingers nervously. She hated looking vulnerable to her mother. "I just want to come home," she said. "Be by your side… I just… I owe you my life, and I don't want to fail you."

The elder kunoichi studied her daughter's face. "Is that the only thing that's bothering you?"

"There's also the fact I had to be stuck with that Takeda for many of those months," she shivered at the thought. "You would not believe the foolishness I had to tolerate."

"Oh, I completely understand," Kunimitsu admitted, recalling numerous unusual events of her past, some including irritable moments between herself, and the Manji Clan's leader, Yoshimitsu, back when she was once a member. "Believe me, I share in your suffering."

The younger kunoichi looked at her mother almost awestruck at her mother's confession. The elder kunoichi's expression became serious.

"If you still value your life, you will not ask me for the details," Kunimitsu glowered.

Minamoto blinked nervously, covering her lips as she struggled to hold back a giggle. Kunimitsu's expression softened and laughed with her daughter. Mother and daughter would continue to share pleasantries for the next hour, taking the time to savor each other's company while catching up on events, past, present, and future. In that very moment, Minamoto dearly wished this reunion would last just a little longer before she had to depart…

* * *

"What do you think now, my son?" Kunimitsu asked.

Perched on the roof of the hut, a tall, lanky figure gazed outward to the forest, eyes fixated as Minamoto departed. His fingers twitched momentarily, seemingly offended at the question posed.

"You have your reasons for choosing her, mother," the man replied. "I do not dare question your judgment."

"Oh, but you want to, don't you?" Kunimitsu snickered.

"Of course he does, mother," another voice answered. The bell boy from the hotel, now dressed casually in a dark yukata, leaned against one of the wooden posts and smiled. "He's jealous that our sister was chosen for the mission, and not him."

"Mind your manners, brother," the man on the roof growled. "You are lucky that mother is around, lest I have your tongue cut off."

"I am only speaking the truth," the 'bell boy' replied. "It is quite obvious that you didn't approve of mother's decision. Any idiot could see that. It's why she went through the trouble of summoning her back, just to prove a simple fact you don't seem to grasp."

"You…"

"Minamoto is simply better than you. Accept it, and move on."

"I will have your head staked – "

Both men stopped short of going at each other's throats when Kunimitsu suddenly laughed. This time, however, the laughter was devoid of the warmth and joy from earlier.

"Calm down… both of you," she admonished. "You begin to annoy me." Her voice was smooth, chilling, bordering on insanity. It was enough to startle both of her 'sons' out of their petty argument, and remind them of their place in the 'family'.

"If you must know, both of you are equally capable of carrying out this task," she explained. "In fact, I would dare say that under the usual circumstance, I would have chosen either of you over your sister for such a delicate mission. On the other hand, there is one reason why I keep her around for as long as I have."

Kunimitsu paused, as though waiting for either of her sons to ask her the question.

"Her loyalty for me is strong," she said. "Strong to the point of childish naiveté, especially given her skills. Even you have to admit, her fighting potential is amongst the strongest I've ever seen. Combine that with her ceaseless devotion, and she makes for a very powerful little tool." Kunimitsu wrapped a lock of red hair from one of her ponytails in her index finger, enjoying the cool breeze against her face. "Minamoto will succeed. She will risk her life for the mission. So long as her loyalty remains, I will continue to have use for her. That is why she is the best person to retrieve the sword. And that is why I chose her."

The 'bell boy' nodded to himself in agreement, absorbing the logic behind his mother's decision. The man on the roof grunted in disgust, yet grudgingly accepted her reasoning.

With an icy smile on her lips, Kunimitsu gracefully turned towards the sliding doors, and disappeared into the hut.

* * *

Hanako Yamada.

That's what everyone called him now…

Not too long ago, he had a different name; what that name was, it was now forgotten. He remembered other things, like a small red house in the middle of a quaint neighborhood, complete with a small white car in a long drive way… a brown garage… a lush yard filled with the colors of life, including ripe peaches and cherries.

Most vivid of all, a woman… skin as soft as silk, and hair as smooth as satin. Eyes, though brown, filled with glitter and light, teeth as white as pearls… and the sounds of children… obnoxious, irritable when they fight, yet angels when they sleep. Who are they? Why do they seem so important?

There were other memories he could recall. A blonde woman in purple… with eyes empty of emotion… not human… more like a toy, a plaything, a puppet… and the sounds of bones crunching, starting with his arm… snapped like a twig… ribs puncturing his lungs… the blood from his lips. _His_ blood… At first, he simply wanted to run away. Then, when the pain became to unbearable, he wanted it to end…

…and then, darkness. And when he awoke, he was given a new body… and a new home.

Was this the end? Did he really… die?

And suddenly, he felt this desperate urge in the pit of his stomach.

He wanted to see the house again. He wanted to walk the neighborhood once more. He wanted to taste the fruits of labor. And most importantly, he wanted to see the woman and her angels again…

…her angels… and his.

One more time… just this once…

…he banged against his glass imprisonment… except his arms wouldn't listen.

…and he wanted to scream! Yet his lips wouldn't obey.

He could not move… he could not talk… he could not scream!

This is not rapture!

This is not heaven!

Where is he!

Why is she here!

Why wouldn't they let him move!

Why couldn't she talk?

He wanted to go home… she wanted to see the mountains again… she wanted to fight… he wanted to run… he wanted revenge… she wanted to see her daughter once more…

What did they do to deserve this!

Why are they here!

Why! _Why!_

_Why…_


	18. Stage 17

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 17_

Raven sized up his opponent carefully.

The initial preliminaries on the first day may have been a cakewalk to most of the veterans of the tournament, but now that much of the fat had been sliced off, the competition began to improve… somewhat. For instance, we have Raven's current opposition. About average height, medium build, and possesses a pair of long, well toned, battle hardened legs.

_SWOOSH!_

The agent ducked a pair of quick roundhouse kicks and attempted to counter with an attack of his own. The previous opponent Raven had faced was either too slow or too stupid to defend himself from such a counter, and ultimately ended up leaving in a stretcher.

_SMACK!_

This one, however, was a little quicker on the feet, able to nullify Raven's counter with another kick, then hopped back just enough to avoid yet another attack from the ninja while maintaining enough space between the two to throw another strike.

Raven held up his hand to block, then took a step back to avoid another. The ninja did a short hop forward and thrusted his leg out in an angle towards his opponent's shins. The opponent saw the move coming and hopped back to avoid the kick, then quickly brought up his defenses as Raven struck high with a succession of punches. Not to be outdone, the opponent swung low with his right leg, which the ninja managed to side step, then, adjusting his position, snapped his leg to the side, putting Raven momentarily on the defensive as the force of the kick pushed him back.

Quickly recovering, the ninja spun around to deliver a kick with his left leg, closing the distance, yet having his back facing his opponent as a result. Immediately, however, he followed up with a second kick with his right leg thrust upwards, aimed squarely at his opponent's jaw in hopes of breaking his defenses. Instead of breaking his defenses, however, his opponent weaved his head back just enough for Raven's foot to graze his chin, then snapped his body forward and used the opening in Raven's kicks to land a long punch to the midsection. He then spun his body in a counter clockwise direction and planted the front of his foot to the side of Raven's head, causing the ninja to stagger sideways. Only through the agent's own reflexes was he able duck low to avoid another strike to the head and recover just enough to back flip away.

The agent was impressed, though his expression remained cold as ice. He slowly raised his forearm and rubbed it against the side of his face in a single swipe.

The opponent rubbed his chin with the back of his hand, and held his legs rampart as he shuffled into his fighting stance.

"Let's say we take this up a notch, shall we?" Raven said in his usual husky voice.

With a quiet snarl, the ninja studied his opponent further, and quickly developed a game plan in his head. A second later, Raven dashed forward and leapt into the air.

* * *

Cracking the shell of Soleil proved to be much more difficult than Lars had thought.

The regular security itself was nothing that either Lars or the rest of his team couldn't handle. The security from G-Corporation and the Mishima Zaibatsu possessed greater conventional firepower than even the so-called super power nations. The Swede alone fought against hordes of Tekken Force and G-Corporation PMCs in the past and had seen what their fighting forces were both capable of. Soleil Inc. in comparison was but a drop in a bucket when it came to their own military force.

The problem with breaking into Soleil's security was in their _unconventional_ force. Guns, missiles, robots, planes, and tanks, he knew how to handle them. Monsters, demons, and magical powers, that was a different realm that the Swede was used to, even though he had his share of demons and devil gene powered supermen. In the case of Soleil, as he and his ragtag team soon found out, they have plenty of those.

Lars fidgeted with his cell phone in his hand while watching Raven's match on a monitor. The former commander of the Tekken Force's special unit and the mysterious government agent had both come to blows and worked together in the past. Even after their initial meeting during the Sixth Iron Fist Tournament and the whole Azazel incident, Lars still couldn't figure the agent out.

Then again, if Lars ever did figure the ninja out, Raven wouldn't be doing his job right.

The phone in his hand suddenly rang. Quickly, he flipped open the phone and held it to his ear. "Yes," he answered.

(Alpha Leader, this is Alpha 2,) the voice on the receiver said.

"I told you not to call me that," Lars smirked. "We are no longer Tekken Force, and this is still a secure line."

(Old habits die hard, I suppose,) 'Alpha 2' replied. (Still, you are our commander, regardless of whether we have a uniform or not. Security is still of utmost importance, especially in regards to identity. And for the love of Buddha or whatever deity everyone worships, please don't tell me you're inconveniencing us. For the sake of an old friend and a brother, we're doing this of our own freewill.)

"Speaking to your commanding officer in that tone would normally equal disciplinary action," Lars chuckled.

There was a moment of silence over the phone.

(Well, you did say we are no longer Tekken Force,) Alpha 2 replied. (Old rules and regulations no longer apply, including discipline. I figured a little _reminder_ to my superior – uh, ex-superior in a more informal tone would be a start. How am I doing so far?)

"Remarkably well," Lars answered. "Now that we have this whole issue settled, what do you have for me?"

(Unfortunately, more or less the same,) the voice on the receiver sighed. (Everywhere we went, something or someone managed to block our incursions through this… mystic field or barrier or… some kind of voodoo, Alpha 2 elaborated to the best of his ability. At the moment, anything short of a bomb will probably not get us through. If we are to crack Soleil's safe, we need something other than a computer and a cracker to get through.)

"Back to square one," Lars muttered.

(We haven't even _left_ square one,) Alpha 2 corrected.

The Swede scoffed.

(Any ideas, commander?)

"Hmm…" Lars pondered the dilemma thoughtfully while watching Raven's match on the monitor. "Let me get back to you in a moment. Until then, stay out of sight. Be careful."

(Understood.)

_

* * *

What happened?_ That was what ran through the mind of Raven's opposition. One moment, they were trading blows with each other to the point where he even landed the first hit. The next, he found himself whittled away to exhaustion, while the agent didn't seem to break a sweat.

Meanwhile, Raven stood over his downed opponent with arms folded across his chest. His long, black scarf fluttered relentlessly in the air as though the garment had a mind of its own. "Not too bad," he admitted. "I think you have some potential."

The man on the ground inhaled deeply, slowly staggering back to his feet. His face hardened at the ninja as he held his hands up and stepped back into is stance.

Raven remained in his neutral position. "Still…" he muttered.

In almost a blink of an eye, the ninja was in front of his opponent, tucking his fingertips below his knuckles, and jabbed at the vulnerable ribs with his fore-knuckles. The opponent buckled under the blow, clutching at his ribs as he staggered sideways.

_CRACK!_

"You have a long way to go, son," Raven completed his thought.

Spinning his body clockwise, Raven lifted his right leg in an arc and planted his foot on the side of his opponent's head. From midair, the agent landed a second kick with his left leg, landing on his right foot with his back turned. Completing his combination, he quickly extended his left leg back, hitting his opponent fully in the midsection, sending the man crashing to the wall. Casually, the ninja approached his dazed, yet still conscious opponent in decidedly slow, domineering steps.

"Here's the deal," Raven began to offer. "I can make this very easy for you, or I can make this excruciatingly difficult. You can either quit this match, or I break you down, possibly starting with your legs."

The man tried his hardest to stare down the ninja, though all he succeeded in doing was make himself dizzier. Raven merely adjusted his shades, pushing against the bridge with his middle finger.

"It makes no difference to me whichever way you want to do this," the ninja shrugged, "but I have important business to attend to, and I don't have the time. So do us both a favor and make up your mind."

The agent awaited his opponent's response, the cross shaped scar ever more pronounced in his glare…

* * *

Five minutes after the match, Raven made his way out of the arena to the parking lot. There, an old acquaintance stood waiting for him.

"Lars," the ninja greeted the Swede with a scowl on his face.

"Raven," Lars returned the greeting with a slight wave of the hand. "Business as usual I presume?"

"Always," Raven replied. Inclining his head, the ninja asked in an even tone, "What do you want?"

"My guess would be the same thing that you are after," Lars stated.

"That is rather presumptuous of you," the ninja stated flatly. "What makes you believe we are after the same thing?"

"I would find it difficult to believe otherwise," the Swede answered matter of fact. "The sudden disappearances of many people in the last few days, particularly fighters from around the globe, and the announcement of this tournament is more than mere coincidence, especially considering who is hosting it. And we both know that any Mishima involvement is never a good thing. You wouldn't have accepted their invitation if you didn't have at least some suspicion."

The agent scowled at the Swede again. If one were to examine Raven's expression, it would likely be read along the lines of, 'Thank you for stating the obvious.'

"The fact is," Lars continued, "you want to know Soleil's dirty secrets as much as I do. The reasons for retrieving them will certainly be different, but regardless, you want them. You want into their labs, you want their information, and you want to stop them from unleashing whatever scheme they are hatching. And I'm willing to bet that, so far, you have about as much luck breaking through their security as much as I do, which is none whatsoever."

"And thus you wish to offer your assistance," Raven finished the thought.

"My own men have some information on Soleil's security and it's safe to say you have some of your own. If nothing else, we could at least share what we know, see what we have missed."

"That is a lot of assumptions you are making here."

"Yet are any of them wrong so far?"

Raven did not give an answer, which was all Lars needed to know.

"So what do you think? Shall you consider my offer of support?"

The agent's lips revealed the slightest hint of a smile. _You are as persuasive as the rest of your godforsaken blood you were hatched from,_ he thought.

"Tell you what," the agent began. "You have a match soon, correct?"

Lars nodded.

Raven rubbed his chin thoughtfully and began to walk away. "Beat your opponent, and I will… consider your offer," he finally said.

The Swede chuckled quietly. "Given the effort it took for you to defeat your opponent, mine may not be any better than yours."

"Which is why I said I would _consider_ your offer," Raven emphasized with a wave as he made his way off the arena's lot, leaving the Swede by himself.

"Ninjas," Lars shook his head and smiled.

* * *

Thirty minutes had passed, and now it was Lars' turn to fight.

Walking out into the ring, a chorus of cheers followed as the audience waited in anticipation of the next match. A slight breeze wafted through his impossibly swept mane, the unusual hairstyle itself still maintained even with the wind blowing against his face. Why unusual hairstyles seem to be a common Mishima trait, at least amongst men, no one knows…

"And his opponent…" the announcer's voice boomed all over the arena. "Taro Yamada!"

The reaction from the crowd was little more than a reserved applause at best. A rather plain, stereotypical name for a fighter, one would think, even after much of the crowd witnessed his performance in the initial round. Lars, however, remained poised as he awaited the arrival of his opponent, knowing full well never to judge his opposition on name alone.

Indeed, as Lars quickly noticed, there was nothing ordinary about his opponent at least in terms of his appearance as the ragged man named 'Taro Yamada' made his way into the ring. Six feet tall, pale white skin, dried, cracked lips, long, dark fingernails, head completely shaved of all hair, scalp filled with scabs, the right eyeball completely white while the left was stripped of much pigmentation, notable scars on his left forearm… more specifically, needle scars.

And then there were the chains wrapped around his wrists and waist.

The Swede could not help but think this man was more suited in a clinic or an asylum than in a ring. However, one mere look at his face and already his fighting instincts told him to be on guard. After all, one also doesn't judge an opponent on appearances alone. This would prove to be an interesting match…

"You are Lars Alexandersson," the man whispered, lacking emotion in his speech.

The Swede, straining to make out his voice, crooked his head to the side. "And you would be Taro Yamada," he answered.

"Subject: (DGX) Taro Yamada Unit-7877 Alpha," Taro added.

"Huh…" Lars grunted. _Worse than I thought… the man sounds like a drone…_ The Swede tightened his fists till his knuckles cracked.

"Master said I was deemed a failure," Taro continued, "while my sister, Subject: (DG) Hanako Yamada Unit-7977Z… was deemed a success." The pale man began scratching his scalp, digging into his skin with his dark, dirty fingernails. Blood started to ooze from the pressure.

_That would explain the scabs…_

"Master would rather have sister than me… sister is Master's favorite…" Taro sulked slightly, a hint of emotion managing to escape from his lips. "But… master promised to free me if I defeat everyone in this tournament…"

"Who is your master?" Lars interjected. "Heihachi Mishima? Or is it Kazuya Mishima?"

"Master said I must defeat everyone… that is how the hurting will stop…" Taro spoke, ignoring the Swede's question. Looking straight into Lars' eyes, he spoke, "I shall defeat you, just like I did the others."

The Swede raised his hands in a fighting posture, preparing himself for the worst. He felt a slight remorse for the disheveled man before him, but he had a deal to uphold. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't let that happen."

"Fight!"

Lars' first instinct was to step back as Taro lashed out with his right arm. The Swede tensed as the nails from his opponent ripped the fabric off his sleeves. Lars stepped to the side to avoid another strike, yet Taro recovered almost instantly and, readjusting himself, swung his right arm in an upward slash.

_Quick…_ Lars thought to himself. _Very quick…_

Taro continued his relentless attack, swinging wildly with a succession of slashes with his arms.

_SLASH!_

_RIP!_

Lars, to his credit, managed to avoid his opponent's slashes, the worst of it taken by his now ruined shirt. The pale man made a jab with his left hand, causing the Swede to flinch. Using that moment of distraction, Taro lunged forward and planted his knee in the midsection. Lars doubled over from the blow, though remained on his feet, which allowed Taro to take a quick hop back, and, standing on his left leg, snapped his right leg into a crescent kick. The foot struck Lars on the side of his head, sending the man tumbling away and landing on his side.

"Damn…" Lars cursed himself for focusing too much on his opponent's hands.

Reflexes kicked in as the Swede quickly rolled away to avoid a leaping Taro. The pale man's heel struck the ground hard, cracking the stone surface. Quickly, Lars planted his hand firmly on the ground and, with a strong push, sprung himself back on his feet. Just in time, too, as Taro barely missed with a stomp of his foot.

Both opponents stood in the ring, watching the other warily.

"Pretty good," Lars commented, wiping his lip with the back of his hand.

With a snarl, Taro ran towards the Swede, closing the gap between the two, and lashed out with his arms. Lars felt the speed of his opponent unsettling, yet was quickly able to adjust to his opponent's tempo, avoiding three consecutive lashes while blocking a kick with his forearm. The Swede ducked low to avoid Taro's right handed swing, and quickly exploded into an uppercut. The strength of the blow knocked the pale man off his feet, sending him spiraling backwards. Lars' reprieve, however, would not last as Taro used the momentum of the blow to roll himself back on his feet, then, planting himself firmly, sprung forward like a cat. Gritting his teeth, Lars swayed his body back, avoiding the initial lash from his opponent, and weaved his head to the side to avoid another.

_SLASH! SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!_

In a loud roar, Taro, with fingers fully extended, stabbed his right hand forward, brushing his nails against his Swedish opponent's cheek. The momentum of his movement caused the pale man's right to face the Swede, exposing the complete white of his right eye. Finding an apparent blind spot, Lars threw a punch with his right arm…

To his chagrin, however, Taro was able to recover enough to sway his head back and catch the incoming limb by the forearm. Digging his nails into the flesh, Taro twisted his body and tossed the Swede over his head and into the ground.

"Despite my appearance, my right eye can see with much greater clarity than any man!" Taro declared.

Instinctively, Lars rolled his head to the side to avoid a skull crushing stomp, and lifted his hands to his face to stop another. With a roar, Taro pulled his leg back and kicked him hard to the side, putting enough force into the hit to lift him slightly off the ground and put some distance between the two.

Lars quickly picked himself back off the ground and snapped back into a fighting stance. _If he is considered a failure, I would hate to think what a success would be…_ he thought. His eyes momentarily glanced at the puncture wounds on his forearm. _What kind of experiments has Heihachi been doing?_

The crowd in the arena roared. Lars himself was no newcomer to the Iron Fist tournament, and people have certainly seen what he was capable of. To see the Swede being pushed back into the defensive the way Taro did, however, was something no one was accustomed to seeing.

An upset early in the tournament would definitely be exciting…

Taro stood and gawked at his opponent. "You are still up?" he trembled.

Noting the tone of the question asked, Lars cast his opponent an awkward look of puzzlement. "Should I not be?" he replied sarcastically.

Unexpectedly, Taro dug his nails into his scalp and growled. The chains on his wrists rattled as his body shook. "No… you should not!" he cried out in frustration. Baring his teeth, Taro made a mad dash towards the Swede.

Lars quickly ambled out of the way and watched the pale man charge past him. Taro immediately skidded into a full stop, and sprung himself back towards the Swede. Expecting that move, Lars tightened up his defense and weaved out of the way to avoid an overhead lash. After three consecutive failed attempts at landing a slash at his opponent, Taro feinted a fourth with his left, then went low with a short kick to the shins. Lars, now more adapted to the pale man's speed, telegraphed the move and lifted his leg to avoid the kick and attempted a counterattack with his left fist. Taro lifted his hand to block the incoming fist, and threw and open palmed cross in exchange. Lars barely weaved out of the way as the hand managed to graze his chest, his shirt split open from the front courtesy of the thumbnail rubbing against the fabric.

"Why… won't… you… stay… down…" Taro muttered under his breath, slashing at the Swede with each syllable. On the next attempt, Taro snapped his right leg forward with a kick aimed at the midsection…

…and suddenly his foot was stuck.

"Huh?" Taro looked bewildered. The Swede managed to catch the limb with his left hand.

With a loud grunt, Lars lifted the pale man off his feet, yanking him closer towards him, and planted a right fist to the gut. Taro flew out of his hand and tumbled along the ground.

"Argh!"

Taro sprung back to his feet, snarling through his nose, and leapt into the air. Lars hopped back in response. The swipe missed the Swede by mere inches, which Taro converted into a backhand. Lars blocked the attack with his forearm and countered with a kick from his left leg. Taro's quickness barely managed to stop the kick with his left leg, which, in a quick twist, he then converted into a kick of his own. The Swede deflected the left leg with another kick, then used the ball of his foot to push the man away, giving him some needed distance.

_Now!_

Lars spun his body in a clockwise direction, pushing his momentum forward, and quickly lifted his right arm into an uppercut.

_CRUNCH!_

The punch hit Taro fully on the chin, snapping his head back, and tossing him high into the air. Unable to right himself properly, Taro landed lopsidedly on his back and tumbled three times along the ground until he ended up in the prone position. The pale man lifted his head and glared with his 'good' left eye, grinding his teeth together. Digging his hands deep into the ground, he pushed himself off the ground and pounced like a panther after his prey.

Lars, more assured of his opponent's movements, used the fighter's aggression to his advantage, timing his steps accordingly, and able to sneak into Taro's attack range. Immediately, before he could counter with any kicks, Lars sneaked a hard jab with his left hand, stunning Taro in his tracks. Not waiting for his opponent to recover for a split second, the Swede brought his momentum forward, landing a succession of lefts and rights, spun his body counter-clockwise to land a heavy left hook, and completed his combination with a hard elbow to bring his opponent back down.

_CRASH!_

"Guh!"

Unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of a beating, Taro clumsily rolled to the side, which the Swede was able to halt with a strong punch to the chest. As it turned out, Taro had little defense while prone on the ground, relying on his quick reflexes to almost instantaneously bring himself back on his feet, and though Lars was no expert in combat on the ground, the Swede found he didn't need to put too much effort in keeping the pale man down. Every time the Taro tried to roll laterally, Lars answered with another blow to punish his opponent. An attempted roll to the left, Lars greets him with a punch. An attempted roll to the right, Lars comes back with a kick. Just when Taro managed to tuck his legs and plant his feet to the ground, Lars punished him with another hard blow before he could even produce any momentum to lunge.

"Rawwwwwwwwwwwwr!"

Lashing his hands out in frustration, Taro attempted to claw at the Swede's ankles.

_RIP!_

Lars flinched as one of his claws penetrated his boot and struck him on the foot. Now that he managed to wound the opposition, Taro used that opportunity to put some distance between the two and jump back on his feet.

The Swede limped slightly, the gash much deeper than he initially thought. Seeing the sight of crimson dripping from the injured foot, Taro licked his dried lips, and bellowed out his battle cry. With the fans chanting for more action, Taro dashed towards his opponent. With his footing hampered, Lars clenched his fists, trying to focus on something other than the gash, and made a quick, yet cautious step to the side while holding his arms up in preparation of the pale man's offense…

_SLASH!_

Taro's nails managed to scrape Lars' chest, staining his shirt red as he sailed past the Swede. Lars felt himself momentarily lose his balance as his leg buckled from the exertion placed on the wounded foot. Intending to knock the Swede onto the ground, Taro skidded until he came to a complete stop, then lowered his body for another of his leaps…

"Guh!"

Suddenly, Taro's vision turned red as the voices of the crowd became hollow to his ears.

"Ugh…"

A searing hot pain pierced him in the chest, causing him to stumble forward. Clutching his chest with both hands, he gurgled inaudibly, teetering precariously on his feet. Noticing the sudden change in his opposition, Lars lowered his arms out of concern.

"Stay away from me!" Taro hollered. He roared in defiance, and quickly dashed towards the Swede.

_THUMP!_

Lars sidestepped the man easily and pushed his opponent forward, knocking him to the ground. Breathing hard, Taro beared down on his pain and struggled to get back on his feet. As he labored in his steps, Taro's vision began to flash a burning hot white.

"Guh…"

"Don't do this…" Lars said.

Ignoring his words, Taro roared in Lars' direction, and pounced. Once more, with little effort, Lars merely had to step away from his opponent's path, and sent him to the ground with a push of his hand. Taro landed on the ground much harder than what was intended from that simple light shove.

"That's enough," Lars pleaded. "We must stop this at once!"

"No!" Taro cried out defiantly.

"Look at yourself!" Lars shot back. "You are in no position to fight! If we continue like this – "

Willing himself onto his feet, Taro interrupted the Swede and lunged, making desperate swipes with his hands. The Swede evaded the swings with very little effort, the pale man becoming ever so sluggish with each feeble attempt. Finally, having had enough, the Swede grabbed the man by the arm, and, with a light yank, twisted the limb behind Taro's back. With one arm locked in place, Lars wrapped his forearm across the man's throat in a vice-like hold. Despite the pain, Taro continued to struggle under the Swede's grip, gurgling noises barely escaping from his throat.

"Enough of this!" the Swede grunted. "If you want freedom from your 'master', I could help you!"

"You… cannot… help… me…" was the chilling response.

"You will die if you struggle like this!"

"You… don't understand… do you?"

Stunned by the question, Lars did not answer. _Could_ not answer.

"It… it won't matter… what… you do…" Taro sputtered. "Someone… will… die!"

Before Lars could react, Taro stomped hard on the Swede's wounded foot, the pain loosening the hold on his throat. Like a savage, Taro then bit down hard on Lars' forearm, drawing blood.

"Argh!"

The pale man pushed himself out of the Swede's hold and crumpled to the ground on his hands and knees, wheezing in pain. Lars, gritting his teeth, bent on one knee while rubbing his bleeding forearm. Crawling on his belly, Taro turned to face the Swede with one hand clutching on his chest. Though the fire was still burning in his eyes, his body would not listen…

"It… it is funny…" Taro chuckled. "Master said… that the only way I could be free… is if… I… win… the… tournament…" As he spoke, Taro, through sheer will, steadily pushed himself back on his feet. "But now… I know… there is… another… way…"

Lars, still down on one knee, gasped in shock. "No…" he whispered under his breath. "You can't be serious…"

Against all odds, Taro began limping towards his opponent. His eyes still blazed with fire, yet no longer with the violent bloodlust as before. Instead, there was peace…

"Master… had me kill some of my brothers and sisters… with my bare hands…" Taro grunted. "Said they were failures… all of them…" Slowly, yet surely, the distance between the two became shorter. "Said I can earn my freedom… if I defeated his enemies… heh… but thanks to you… this will all end…"

Lars slowly pushed himself back on his feet, the pain from the wounds suddenly numb. Clenching his fist, his expression hardened as he felt his stomach twist into knots. The sight before him was a wretched sight. Pitiful, to say the least, and yet he felt useless as he watched his opponent whither before his eyes.

Taro's expression, however, was one with enlightened resolve. Step after step, stumbling as he ambled, the pale man drew closer to the Swede, determined in his mind as he felt his life slowly began to slip.

Taro stopped in front of the Swede and looked him in the eye.

"Will you do me this favor?" he asked. "Will you… free me?"

"Stop this…" Lars said through gritted teeth. "We can heal you…"

"I am beyond healing…" Taro said. "And… I can't go back… to master…" he wheezed. "But… I don't want to end… as a rat…" The pale man slowly opened his arms to his sides, leaving himself vulnerable. "Free me…"

Lars felt his knuckles crack.

"Free me…" Taro repeated himself. "I want to end… as a man… fighting…"

What was mere seconds felt like many agonizing minutes. The pain in Taro's chest intensified, his will soon unable to hold him up…

"I'm sorry," Lars finally said.

"Thank you."

_CRUNCH!_

And in that moment, the match ended…

"The winner!"

The crowd was on their feet, cheering before the announcer could even announce the Swede's name. Lars limped slightly towards his fallen opponent, his figure looming over the man's lifeless body, and glanced at his face. There was no pain, no sorrow, no suffering. All Lars saw in the man's motionless expression was peace in his eyes… and a smile.

Kneeling on his knee, Lars' placed a hand on Taro's forehead, then slowly slid his hand to close his eyes.

It would be several more minutes before the Swede would leave the arena.


	19. Stage 18

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 18_

On the third day of the tournament, Anna sat in a bar sipping a martini in her hand. As she drank, the brunette felt a pair of eyes watching from a distance. The brunette closed her eyes and prayed earnestly for whomever to go away…

"Hello, hello," a lecherous voice greeted her, much to Anna's dismay. "Now tell me, what's a hot mama like you doin' sitting all by your lonesome?"

Irked by the tone of the comment (plus she wanted to be left alone), Anna calmly put the martini down on the table and turned to face her… 'disgusting suitor'. When she saw who it was that greeted her, the Irish woman nearly spat out her drink.

It was worse than she thought…

"Ugh…" she gagged.

"Now, honey, that is not very ladylike of you," the man replied, feigning disappointment, yet still maintaining his lecherous tone.

"And you reek," Anna said. "Honestly, if that was the best pickup line you could come up with… just go away… ugh…" she groaned in disgust.

"Pardon me for trying to be nice, but I just couldn't help but see you sittin' alone, and thought you could use some company, that's all."

"Well, you thought wrong, buddy," Anna turned away from the man.

The luckless suitor gaped at her quietly.

"Well, excuse me," the man answered, turning his back on the Irish woman.

"Jerk."

"Dumb 'ho."

Twenty seconds of silence later…

"Heh…"

"Hehehe…"

…and suddenly the bar was filled with snorts of giggling and laughter.

"Anna, baby!"

"Brucie, honey!"

And with that, two old acquaintances leapt into each other's arms in a hard embrace. The rest of the patrons could only stare at the two in utter confusion.

"Yo, yo, yo! Wassup, doll!" Bruce Irvin howled, lifting the Irish woman momentarily off her feet.

"Not much, big man, how you doing!" Anna squealed, ruffling the man's mowhawk with her knuckles.

"Same ol', same ol'," the muay thai kick boxer replied, playfully pushing her hand away.

"Oh really?" Anna laughed, then leaned her head closer. "Prove it."

Happily obliging, Bruce began to shuffle on his feet, snapping his fingers and dancing to a silent rhythm. "I still got da moves, babe, still got da moves," he replied over a chorus of yelps and catcalls from the brunette. Licking his fingers and brushing his beard and eyebrows, he hollered, "Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Bam! Can you dig this!"

"Rawr!" Anna answered enthusiastically while Bruce kissed both his fists and flexed his dark, muscular arms. "Oh, now don't you be showing those guns around here," Anna cooed. "They're illegal in your fifty states, yeah!"

"Now, now, honey, you gotta play fair," Bruce looked at the Irish woman with pleading eyes. "Show me some love."

"Oh, you got it, bad boy, you got it!" Anna stepped out of her chair and began to entice the kick boxer with a dance of her own, shaking her torso and gyrating her hips seductively.

"Yeah, baby, work it!" Bruce cheered. "Show me some booty!"

Anna was all too happy to oblige as she turned and wiggled her rump.

"Ow, booyah! That's what I'm talking about!"

Without being asked, Anna put her arms behind her head and shook her ample bosoms.

"Whoa, baby! Whoa! Whoo, baby, I'm gonna faint! Oh, I'm gonna faint…" Bruce began fanning himself vigorously with his hands.

"Not till you show me your 'groove thang'," Anna pointed out with an impish smile.

"Oh yeah, babe?" Bruce rose up to the challenge. "You sure you can handle it?" he snickered. "You… sure… you... can… handle… this!" And like that, Bruce bent over and shook his rump in front of the brunette.

"Oh… oh!" Anna pretended to swoon. "Oh, that is so cute…"

"Cute?" Bruce sputtered. "E-excuse me! That is the sexiest thang you will ever witness, Miss Williams!"

"Sorry, Mr. Irvin, but _I'm_ the sexiest thing you will ever witness!" Anna declared triumphantly, spanking proudly at her posterior. "Your *** got nothing on mine, that's for sure!"

Bruce stopped his dancing. "Well, can't really argue with that," he admitted, and pretended to pounce.

"Down boy, down!" Anna laughed hysterically while slapping at Bruce playfully. "Oh… oh man," she gasped, slumping back onto her seat. "That was fun."

"Got the crowd lookin' at us," Bruce laughed and pulled up a seat next to her. "Good times, babe, good times," he sighed happily, and quickly ordered a beer for himself.

"It's been a while," Anna slapped Bruce by the arm. "So what brings you here all of a sudden? Haven't seen you in these tournaments for the last couple of years."

"I'm not really sure," Bruce gestured with a shrug. "I mean, Kazuya hadn't been askin' for my help much, so I figured I might as well settle down, and… leave the wars to those who still give a ****, you know?"

"You? Resting from a fight? Is that even possible?"

"Times are changing," he shrugged again. "I'm not exactly young despite (_ahem_) my rugged good looks… and the fights just don't cut it no more… Well, Kazuya did kind of ask me to join him, but even then I couldn't decide. As far as me showing up goes, I guess you can blame the news for that."

Anna knew precisely what news Bruce was referring to. "Guess that's one way to bring you out of retirement."

"Yeah… well…" the kick boxer sighed, casually brushing his hand over his mohawk. "Truth be told, even with the news, I got reasons to _not_ show up," he muttered.

"Is that so?" Anna blinked. Leaning on her hands, she added, "Do tell."

Bruce suddenly had a flustered look on his face. "Uh…" he stammered. "Well, I… uh… eheh… uh… how have you been doing?" Bruce attempted to change the subject.

"Uh-uh," Anna waggled her finger. "You still haven't answered my question."

"Um… uh…" Bruce's eyes darted nervously. "Well, you see, I…" his train of thought was interrupted by a buzzing sound in his pocket. "Um… one sec…" Bruce reached into his pocket and pulled out a Blackberry. He had a goofy grin on his face as he scrolled through the message on the screen. "Uh… be right back."

As Bruce stepped off his seat and walked to a private corner in the bar, Anna became very curious at his sudden bashfulness. Downing the last of her martini, Anna ran her hand through her mane, stood up from her seat in as provocative a manner as possible, and quietly sauntered over to Bruce's direction, taking care to sway her hips with every seductive stride she made. One flirtatious wink and an enchanting wave to the male patrons later, the brunette found herself standing right behind the kick boxer. Hunching over with his back turned from the crowd, Bruce typed furiously on his Blackberry, too distracted to even notice the Irish woman was nearby. Licking her provocative lips, Anna quietly took a few steps towards Bruce without arousing his suspicion, stood on her tip toes, and took a peek over his massive shoulders…

…_I… (SPACE) w… i… l… l… (SPACE) s… e… e… (SPACE) u… (SPACE) w… r (BACKSPACE) e… n… (SPACE) I… n (BACKSPACE) m… (SPACE) d… o… n… (SPACE) h… e… r… e._

_(ENTER)_

_I… (SPACE) l… u… v… (SPACE) u… (SPACE) h… u… n…_

_(ENTER)_

_U… r… (SPACE) S… n… o… o… k… i… m… s…_

_(ENTER)_

_B… r… u… c… i… e…_

_(SEND)_

"_Snookims_!" Anna squealed delightfully and snatched the Blackberry out of his hands. "Oh, man, that is so nauseatingly cute!"

"H-hey, hey!" Bruce stammered. "Give that back!"

"Oh, my gosh, Brucie," Anna giggled. "First off, when did you get this?" she gestured over the device.

"None of your business," Bruce grumbled, flailing for the Blackberry with no success. "Now give it back – "

"And second, _snookims!_" she squealed again. Then she glowered, "OK, which piece of *** you talking to this time? Kimberly? Roxy? Monique? Left Eye? Or is it that buck toothed freak, Nisha, again?"

"None of the above," Bruce answered defiantly. "Give it back to me – "

"Oh, my gosh!" Anna's eyes bulged out, as she began looking through his pictures. "Now I've never seen that piece of brown chocolate before (and you know how much I love chocolates)…"

"No, no you haven't. Now give – "

"Is she a supermodel?"

"Well, no, but like I keep saying, she definitely looks like one, so – "

"I swear I saw her on a cover of a centerfold somewhere."

"Heh, I tell her that all the time," he chuckled nervously. "Now give it back – "

"Seriously, she is hot!" Anna deadpanned. "Almost as hot as me! I swear, she's so hot, I could turn lesbian and jump her on the spot."

"Y-you would?"

"No, pervert," Anna glowered with a look of disgust. "But, really, she's very hot! _Smokin'_ hot!"

"Yes, and I will be happy to tell Sharon when I see her, now please give that – "

"_Sharon_, you say!" she jumped and clapped her hands gleefully. "That is so _girly_! And I thought you would never tell me her name… Did I mention she's hot? Oh, and what's this?" the brunette raised her eyebrow out of curiosity as she scrolled through more of his pictures. "Awwwwwwww! How cute!"

"Wait, what – what is – "

"Sharon is holding a little baby!" Anna squeaked.

"Oh no…" Bruce muttered with dread.

"Aw, the baby looks so precious."

"Yes, yes he is… now stop looking at my pictures and – "

"I also see some resemblance there. Is that her little brother?"

"No."

"Cousin?"

"No!"

"Nephew? Long lost relative? "Male clone? Who?"

"That's her son."

"Son?"

"Yeah. Now give me my – "

"Wait, you hit on a MILF?"

"No, _no_! Not like that…"

"I know she's hot and all, but I never pictured you to be the type to go after mothers (though she'd still be sexy enough for me to want to turn lesbian and jump her) – "

"Look, it's nothing like that! The MILF thing, I mean! (A-and, really, you would?)"

"(Again, no, not really, pervert.) So if it ain't the MILF thing, what is it!"

"It's… it's…" Bruce's eyes darted nervously around the lobby as he struggled to explain himself. Finally, hunching over with a defeated sigh, he relented, "Sharon and I, we're married… and that's our baby boy. His name is Sheldon."

The Blackberry clattered to the ground.

Five seconds of silence later…

"Hello?"

Anna didn't stir at the sound of Bruce's voice.

"Anna?" Bruce waved his hand nervously to her face.

The corner of the brunette's lip began to twitch. Suddenly, Bruce's expression of concern was completely replaced with fear of which was unseen by any man until now.

"Oh… oh, no," Bruce muttered, waving his hands in panic. "Please tell me you're not – "

"Bu – bu – bu – buh – "

"No, no, don't say it, don't say it – "

"Bu – bu – bu – bu – "

"Noooooooooooooooooooo!" the kick boxer cried out at the top of his lungs. Fumbling for the Blackberry on the ground, he quickly scooped Anna over his shoulders, and ran off as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Bu – bu – bu – bu – but you're – you're – "

"Hold-it-in-hold-it-in-hold-it-in-hold-it-in – " Bruce repeated over and over.

" – you're – you're – you're – you're – "

"Shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-"

After the longest thirty seconds of his life, Bruce finally reached the door of what was apparently his suite. His face wet with perspiration, Bruce fumbled in his pockets for his card key, cursing to himself while he searched frantically. After another arduous ten seconds later, he finally managed to find his key in the back pocket. Pumping his fist quietly, he slid the card key into the slot, waited until the indicator turned green, and twisted the knob…

"You're _ugly_!"

Frozen to the door, Bruce felt the whole world crashing down while Anna slid off his shoulder and hit the floor with a loud 'thump'. The kick boxer dropped the card key while Anna laid motionless on the ground still in utter shock. Another twelve seconds passed…

"Two… seconds…" Bruce seethed under his breath.

Anna blinked at Bruce dumbfounded.

"You… could… _not…_ keep your trap _shut…_ for two… more… _seconds_!" Bruce roared angrily.

"But you're ugly!" Anna shot back to her feet.

"Will you stop saying that!" Bruce jumped with a start.

"No, I can't!" Anna cried out. "You hit on me, yet you're married, and you're ugly!"

"Hit on – hey, you know we just playin', and you're not making any sense!"

"Yes I am!" she insisted. "She's hot, I'm hotter, he's cute, and you're ugly! You understand!"

"What does that have to – "

"And it's not that you're simply ugly-ugly, you're _ugly_-ugly!"

"There's a difference!"

"Yes!" Anna hollered. "You butt ugly!"

"E-excuse me!"

"Wildebeest ugly!"

"Wha – uh, wha – "

"Medusa ugly!"

"I resent that remark!"

"Big, fat, hairy, blonde, _Yeti_ ugly!"

"Hold it, Nina's a ***** and all, but she ain't hairy or fat (or ugly for that matter) – "

"Double rainbow ugly all the way _ugly_!"

"N-now don't you be groupin' me with that weirdo – "

"A-and the baby looks so cute, but you hit on me, and you're ugly!" Anna whimpered. "Darwin's Theory of Evolution is debunked because you're ugly!"

"Why am I even having this discussion?" Bruce asked himself.

"See? She's hot, I'm hotter, he's cute, and you're ugly!" Anna shouted. "One of these things just doesn't belong here!" the Irish woman broke out into a mini song and shuffle. Before Bruce could respond, a revelation had suddenly occurred to her:

"What if the kid grows up to be like you, Bruce?"

The brunette trembled uncontrollably at the thought. "He… he'd be like the Ugly Duckling… only in reverse!"

Bruce could only smack his forehead in embarrassment. "Why am I not even trying to kill you?" the kick boxer murmured.

"No-no-no-no-no!" Anna shook her head furiously. "And you were hitting on me! Hot, hotter, cute, ugly!"

"Really, why am I not even trying to kill you?"

"_Ugly_."

"Stop that."

"Ug-ly."

"Really, stop that."

"Ugly, **ugly**, _ugly_, ugly, **u**_g_l**y**, U**g**L_y_, _u_**G**lY, _U_g_lY_, _**UGLY**_!"

"Stop that, or I'll really have to kill you – "

"Look at him, look at you, look at him, now look at you, now look at him, now look at you. Ugly!"

"Shut up you psycho – "

"The fish is now _diamonds_!"

_THUMP!_

"Fish – diamonds – woman, you are out of your… Anna?" Bruce looked down to watch Anna twitching on the floor. Meanwhile, onlookers could only stare and gasp at the scene. "Oh… ****."

* * *

Jin was not too sure what he found more strange, that he practically had to demand they gave Panda to him, or the fact that Heihachi allowed him to take Panda. The ordeal he underwent just to _see_ the bear was ridiculous, almost to the point where he had to physically fight the guards to get to the enclosure itself. Getting second visits on the following day was the equivalent of doing your own root canal. And asking for the bear to stay with him? Blasphemy! Thankfully (for the guards), Heihachi was there to give the order for Panda's release, and the rest of the day went without incident.

More or less.

A couple of men did end up leaving their post with a tourniquet wrapped around their arms and/or a few braces around their necks, but otherwise nothing fatal happened.

Now that Panda was in his possession, the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO breathed a sigh of relief, and the bear herself couldn't be happier. Whatever it was that Heihachi or Soleil's orderlies had done, it clearly frightened the poor animal. As the only connection he had left to Xiaoyu, he wanted to at least keep Panda in his suite for her own safety and for his own peace of mind. It still didn't alleviate all the guilt, but it was a first step at least.

Jin sat daydreaming on his chair while Panda curled up on the rug next to his seat. He had to admit, not only was Panda very smart, but she was also very well groomed. As far as he was concerned, the giant panda was far cleaner and sanitary than the average man, which he found to be both comforting and distressing at the same time. Smarter, too. As he had to remind himself constantly, she was no ordinary panda bear.

Panda looked up and furrowed her brow curiously.

"Eh?" Jin looked down at the bear. "Don't worry," he said. "Just thinking to myself."

Panda shrugged and curled her head back on the rug. Jin could only watch and smile as the bear cooed peacefully to herself. That bear was simply too pure for this world, he thought. Too pure, too innocent for this world. Jin longed to live life like that once more…

Suddenly, the bear shot up on all fours and snarled at the direction of the entrance. Before Jin could ask, he heard the sound of knocking at the door. Placing a reassuring hand on the bear's forehead, he stood from his seat and called out, "Enter."

The large oak door swung open. Kazuya took two steps into the suite and was momentarily stunned at the sight of a nine foot Panda snarling back at him.

"Heihachi actually allowed you to keep that animal?" he asked, not out of any particular interest, but more out of reserved amusement. That amusement, of course, lasted all of one second.

"What do you want now?" Jin glared at his father, tapping the bear gently on her head. Panda looked at Jin with a disapproving expression, yet relented to his beckoning and backed away cautiously.

"Amusing," Kazuya said dryly. With an air of superiority of a monarch, the former G-Corporation CEO strode across the suite towards his son, completely ignoring Panda's snarls. Reaching over, he grabbed a chair for himself and sat down.

"Well? Are you going to tell me why you're disturbing us or are you just going to keep me in the dark?"

"While you live up to the Mishima bloodline extremely well, sometimes I wonder why you can't act more like a Kazama," was the answer out of Kazuya's lips.

Not quite what Jin had expected.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Jin asked, not sure whether he was being commended or insulted. He guessed the latter.

"In terms of your heritage, you are in a rather unique position," Kazuya began to elaborate. "You have the Mishima blood. You also have the Devil Gene. You also have Kazama blood in you, yet you seem rather… baffled by that half of your blood."

The reigning King of Iron Fist Champion crossed his arms defiantly. "So… is there a point of… insulting me here, or will you care to _explain_ yourself?"

Kazuya blinked, seemingly offended that his son couldn't figure out the obvious. "Have you bothered to even study the security measures in this facility?"

Jin stared at his father with a blank expression.

"No… no, of course you didn't," Kazuya rubbed his temples. "If you did, it would make things much easier, and you know we can't have that," he added with a sigh. "Sometimes I also wonder how I am defeated by you all these times."

"And if I wasn't trapped in here so often, I probably would try to study Soleil's security measures more thoroughly, but that's just my opinion, I am merely following your 'plan'," Jin snapped. "Now, explain yourself, or I will have you out of my room," he threatened. "And I won't hold back Panda," he added, which the bear snorted in approval.

"_Very_… amusing," Kazuya grunted disdainfully. "Tell me something. Can you at least _sense_ the security? Even with that collar, you should still feel some of the emanations from the wards in the building."

The former Mishima Zaibatsu president looked away sheepishly, quietly, yet grudgingly admitting to his father's description.

"You are finally starting to understand, I see," Kazuya quipped. "Various seals and wards are placed strategically within specific locations of the main tower, designed, along with conventional forces, to block off those with, for lack of a better word, demonic powers. Powers, such as ours."

Jin sat back down on his seat and began to ponder the words further. He played with the information in his mind, turned it upside on its head, flipped it backwards, trying to fit together… well… everything that had happened up to this point. The whole incident that started with Kazuya retrieving his body, his chance meeting with Hanako, the visions he received…

"Heh…" Jin let out a soft chuckle. "You honestly believe that, my being half Kazama, I would somehow be able to break those so-called seals and gain access to… whatever manner of madness Heihachi is brewing?"

"Do you wonder why you had those berserk outbreaks last week?" Kazuya pointed out. "Do you wonder why you even still have those visions? Hearing voices in your head?" Jin shot a murderous look at his father. "Yes, I've been watching you. Not so much in the four corners of this room, but I've observed you during the brief moments in the lab, and during your matches in the arena. You were not exactly hiding anything from me, especially with your… incessant loud rantings and ravings."

Jin felt his jaw tighten as he couldn't deny what Kazuya was saying. Panda watched the exchange with absolute confusion.

Kazuya leaned back on his chair, turning away from his son while casually rolling his wrist and stretching his fingers. "In an odd twist, your blood somehow accelerated the progress of the old man's pet project, yet keeping you alive does have its inherent risks. For instance, if you ever fully realize your Kazama bloodline sometime in the immediate future, you could very well derail Heihachi's plot." Turning to face his son, "Right now, your connection to Hanako with the collar is mostly limited to hearing voices, am I correct?"

"Correct," Jin nodded.

"Which is just as useless as allowing your devil side to run rampant all through the town," Kazuya grumbled. "But as you may notice, your connection, her initial escape, this… 'leak' in your restraint, those are the result of your unique blood. If you could somehow expand upon what you have, we may have a chance."

The former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO looked at his father with disgust and shook his head. "I'm afraid you are demanding the world of me," he said. "And much like the world, it is just out of your reach."

The former G-Corporation CEO scoffed at his son. "Is that it?" he asked, throwing his hands in the air. "You hate me so much… no, you hate _yourself_ so much, that you would not even try to gain some modicum of knowledge that your Kazama blood possess?"

"I am simply stating what you have proposed is an impossibility," Jin shrugged. "My devil side is simply much stronger than my Kazama side, which you can partially thank our dear Heihachi for."

"Excuses!" Kazuya slammed his fist on the armrest. "What of the fourth tournament? I recalled some semblance of the Kazama blood within you reacting in defense of the Devil's attempts at absorbing your power, and again when you came short of killing Heihachi."

"They were brief moments at best!" Jin argued. "Afterwards, my devil half ended up fully awakened regardless of my efforts, especially when Jinpachi returned after Honmaru was destroyed!"

"Again, excuses!" Kazuya angrily jumped on his feet. "You had every opportunity to… to… train in the ways of the Kazama arts beyond what… _insignificant_ amount of techniques you chose to retain and go above and beyond what you are now!"

"You say it like I had a choice!" Jin rose to his feet.

"You had a choice!" Kazuya smashed the chair with his fist. "Even after Heihachi had trained you, _used_ you, you could have chosen to go against your own demons and walked a path separate than what your… _grandfather_ made for you! Instead, you hid behind your devil's blood to make yourself feel better for the atrocities you committed!" Then, in an even tone, "How Mishima of you!"

"Like you even care!" Jin yelled so hard, his face burnt red.

"I care enough to do everything in my power to save… _her_," Kazuya retorted, his voice seething with accusation. "In spite of the odds, I will not give up until I find her! Of course, with your assistance, saving her would make the task much easier, but it seems that you are so full of yourself that you wouldn't even bother to _try_ and do this for her!"

"Don't you dare – "

"You… you don't even care enough about her to honor her blood!"

"Don't you dare accuse me of not caring!" Jin snapped. "You… were not there during my childhood to raise a family! You… were not there to comfort her when she felt lonely! You… were not even there when she fought Ogre to save my life! Look at yourself! You can't even say her name! Mother was lost to me because you were too busy figuring out your Devil Gene, so don't you accuse me of your hypocrisy!"

Father and son glared silently at one another, both men throwing every ounce of willpower to not give into the temptation of getting at each other's throats. Sensing the hostility, Panda stepped in and, with a gentle nudge of her paw, pulled Jin by the shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

Agonizing seconds passed.

"Very well," Kazuya said in a low monotone. Swallowing his pride, he slowly turned towards the door, and quietly began to make his exit from the suite. "One more thing."

Jin clenched his fist to the point where his nails pierced his skin. "What?" he grunted.

"Good luck in your next match," Kazuya simply stated, and left.

Finally alone, save for Panda by his side, Jin collapsed back onto his chair and, covering his face, trembled furiously.

* * *

Time ticked slowly away, yet before he knew it, Jin found himself in the arena once more. Just as it was with the other matches, a chorus of boos followed, along with the occasional piece of trash thrown into the ring. The only support he received was from Panda watching closely in the background.

Unlike in his first match, Jin decided to change out of his formal attire and dress in his fighting outfit, namely his trademark black gi pants with red flames along his right leg, along with red foot protectors and fighting gloves, thus baring his perfectly sculpted, well chiseled physique to the whole world. Even with all the hatred, some of the women in the audience turned and blushed out of guilty pleasure, though Jin didn't seem to take notice.

Really, though, he didn't care. After the eventful debate he had with his father, all Jin wanted was to get this match over with and move on. No strings attached. A very simple request he asked… _begged_ of the heavens…

"And his opponent! Eddy Gordo!"

And suddenly, Jin's guilt shot to an all time high, as the rugged capoeirista ambled into the ring. Jin was used to anger, especially one directed towards him. Eddy was no different in that regard, especially given how much of his life was filled with vengeance, starting with Kazuya's betrayal towards his family. But what he saw in those eyes was something beyond mere anger, vengeance, or even hatred.

It was madness, desperation from a man that suddenly had nothing to lose. And Jin could only surmise what could cause this madness in the first place.

Christie…

"Hello, Kazama," Eddy's voice dripped with toxic venom. "Long time."


	20. Stage 19

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Interlude_

This was not how it was supposed to happen.

When Jin made the promise to find a cure for Ho Chi Myong's sickness in exchange for Eddy's cooperation, he really had every intention to fulfill his end of the bargain.

He really did.

Yes, it was said that the disease was incurable, and, yes, the legendary mestre was an old man, but Jin had the power and the resources of the Mishima Zaibatsu to find a cure. Day in and day out, he secretly diverted all kinds of funds into research, hoping to find something, anything that would bring the man back to health, all while playing the part of the master manipulator and taking many lives with him.

Yes, he realized the hypocrisy in his actions, something that went well against his mother's teachings. Perhaps that was why it was so important that he did keep his promise, as it was the one good deed he could do against the litany of atrocities he brought upon the rest of the world.

All this, of course, for the sake of saving the world itself… somehow.

That was what went through his mind as he strode through the emergency room of the Mishima Zaibatsu's hospital and made his way to where the mestre was being kept. Jin kept the façade of a cruel, ruthless, unshakable president, not allowing even the slightest hint of emotion to break his disguise. He couldn't reveal himself to be merciful, not even a trace. Inside, he was anxious, shaken to the core. Outside, he had to play the part of a tyrant to the bitter end…

"I thought you said we had the cure," Jin blurted the moment he burst through the door.

"Yes, Mr. Kazama, we did mention we had the cure, but the disease is now at its later stages," Dr. Tanaka replied without skipping a beat while directing the rest of his physicians to stabilize their patient.

"You told me he had another two days," Jin emphasized.

"Yes, and I also told you that was more of an estimate, and that we should in fact apply the cure as soon as possible," the doctor reminded the CEO. "I insisted on administering the drug so that I may proceed with his operation, but you demanded we hold off on healing his sickness to ensure Mr. Gordo's cooperation – "

"Why can't you use the cure now!" the Mishima Zaibatsu president postured threateningly.

"Again, Mr. Kazama," Dr. Tanaka replied patiently. "The disease is now in a later stage. The cure was meant to nip the problem during, at the latest, the intermediate stages. Administering the drug now will either do nothing, or worse, outright kill him – " the doctor was momentarily interrupted by the whining of a heartbeat flatlining, and the jumbled voices of nurses and physicians trying to resuscitate the patient. "Mr. Kazama, I'm sorry, but you will need to wait outside."

"Doctor – "

"The patient is dying, and I can't do my job if I don't have the space," Dr. Tanaka pleaded. "I beg of you, please… wait outside."

Relenting to the doctor's request, Jin took a step back towards the door and walked away. The last thing he heard from the room was the word, 'clear,' uttered out loud, and the sound of a defibrillator zapping the mestre's heart with its precious, life sustaining volts…

…and on that very moment, Jin made his resolution…

…to save the world from its own corruption…

…embracing his dark heritage…

… and forever became a demon for the world to revile…

_

* * *

Stage 19_

_CRUNCH!_

Jin felt his body hit the ground, much to the joy of the crowd. Eddy, on the other hand, could feel nothing save for the brewing hatred and bitterness welling in his heart.

"Get up, Kazama!" the capoeirista hollered, gesturing with his arms like a madman. "Get up!"

Coughing out dust in his mouth, Jin gradually picked himself up on his elbows and knees, and crawled towards his opponent.

"Get up!"

Planting his hands against the ground, he dizzily lifted himself to his feet, and gazed listlessly into his opponent's face.

_SMACK!_

_CRUNCH!_

_THUMP!_

Two successive kicks to the face later, Jin was knocked back on the ground. This only made the six foot Eddy all the more enraged. And the crowd cheered all the more louder.

"Don't give me that ********!" the Brazilian spat, towering over his prone opponent. Angrily, he kicked the sprawling Jin hard in the ribs, flipping him over onto his back. "Get up!"

Sputtering along the ground, the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO rolled back on his stomach, crawled on his hands and knees, and shakily lifted himself to a standing position.

_SMACK!_

_WHUMP!_

_THUNK!_

For the third time, Jin found himself sprawled on the ground. Blood began to drip from his nose as the world around him became a blur.

"Wh… what are you playing at?" Eddy snarled, pulling Jin by the scruff of his neck. "Getting all soft on me, pretty boy? _Huh_!" The muscled Brazilian flung his opponent face first like a piece of refuse. "Come on! Get up!"

Watching the fight from the gate, Panda wailed quietly to the ring, scratching desperately at the steel bars obstructing the entrance to the match.

"Ugh!" Jin gasped. For a brief moment, he felt himself about to pass out while sucking gravel up his nose. In fact, at that moment, he probably would have passed out had it not been for the dust activating his gag reflex. Instead of blackness, the world seemed to waver just a bit.

Of course, with the dullness in his body, that wasn't really much of an improvement.

Shaking the cobwebs out of his head, Jin sputtered out the dribble of sand in his mouth, and, lifting himself up, got as far as the kneeling position. Eddy in turn was incredulous.

"What… what the hell is this?" the capoeirista grunted, grabbing his own head and digging his nails into his scalp. Shaking the welled up frustration in his head, Eddy Lifted his right arm to the side, and planted a hard slap to Jin's face. Jin nearly toppled over from the hit, yet still kept his knees planted on the ground.

"Fight me!" Eddy demanded. The second slap to the face, Jin was a little more prepared, though it still stung.

"Fight me!" Eddy demanded again. The third slap practically bounced off Jin's cheek, though still left a red welt. The capoeirista held his hands on the sides of his head once more, trembling in agitation.

"Fight me!" Eddy repeated. The backhand, on the other hand, managed to knock him on his side.

"Uh…" Jin groaned warily. A spot of warm moisture suddenly splashed on his face, nearly hitting him in the eye. Reeling from the previous blows to the head, it took his mind to register that he was just spat on.

"Are you ******* kidding me…" the Brazilian seethed angrily with trembling lips. He watched as Jin wormed his way along the ground, collapsing twice in his attempt to get back on his feet. Eddy felt his body quake as he strived with all his might to contain his rage. "Is… huh… is this some kind of joke!" When he received no immediate answer, Eddy proceeded to stomp on his former employer's back.

"Arrrrrrrrrrgh!" Jin cried out in anguish, yet put up no resistance against his opponent's attack.

Eddy hovered over the reigning King of Iron Fist champion with a look of pure hatred in his eyes, inhaling and exhaling erratically. "You were so high and mighty back then, what happened!" he ridiculed. The capoeirista lifted his foot again, and stomped on the back of his opponent, grinding his foot into the spine for good measure. "Why won't you fight me!" Again, Jin cried out, again he put up no resistance, and again, Eddy simply became angrier.

From the stands, the crowd, pumping their fists in the air, began chanting for more blood.

From the gate, Panda roared frantically out of desperation while pawing furiously at the steel bars.

In the middle of the ring, Jin remained sprawled on his stomach, gasping and wheezing with great difficulty, his heart throbbing with a pain more intense than the physical abuse he took.

And looming just above him, Eddy made his choice…

"Since you won't fight me… heh…" he glowered. "I will just take you apart… one… piece… at a time."

* * *

Kazuya found the scene rather disturbing.

Not too long after having his little 'debate' with his son, Heihachi sent one of his messengers to summon him. In this case, it was the ever smiling, ever peaceful, ever tranquil Qiquiang. Kazuya found the monk to be rather, for lack of a better word, 'misplaced', especially the fact his face was always beaming regardless of his surroundings or circumstances, yet that wasn't what disturbed him.

Qiquiang escorted him into one of Soleil's indoor gardens, an unusually large expanse of greenery and blossoms of many different colors. Considered to be one of the company's greatest triumphs, the gardens have been known to be tourist attractions, with both its rare collection of plant life, and the gentle nature itself. Equally as misplaced as the monk, Kazuya thought, especially given the shadowy nature of Soleil's activities, the least of which was the Iron Fist Tournament, and yet that wasn't what disturbed him.

Through a stone path, and past the garden of cherry blossoms stood a small, unassuming pond, clear and gentle as the rest of the scenery, yet vibrant and teeming with life. Indeed, beneath the crystal waters and floating lily pads, hundreds of exotic fish swam freely without a single care in the world. What caught Kazuya's eye was not the pond itself, but rather what was next to it: a small, humble shrine with a portrait of a woman and a simple dedication engraved on its plaque.

A small hint of curiosity got the best of him as Kazuya approached the shrine. Placing his hand over the plaque, his eyes wandered over the portrait and practically skimmed through the dedication out of mild disinterest. Then he read the name etched below the portrait: Aki Nakamura.

"She was an employee of the company before I took over."

That familiar, accursed voice of Heihachi snapped the former G-Corporation CEO back to attention. Turning towards his father, Kazuya was taken aback by the scene before him. A simple, yet elegant round table covered in white silk with the simplest of wares carefully placed. Two chairs were placed at opposite ends of the small table, one empty, the other occupied by Heihachi himself. Posing as bodyguards and personal servants at the same time stood a handful of the marionette army… and Nina Williams.

Kazuya furrowed his brow at the sight. _This is much too cozy for either of our tastes…_ he thought.

"While very few knew of her," Heihachi continued to explain, "Miss Nakamura was one of the main architects of these gardens and helped made them into the success they are today. She was also involved in the early stages of the Gaia Project before her untimely death." The master of Soleil Inc. folded his hands thoughtfully. "Her small contributions have made Hanako the success she is today. I thought it would be fitting to erect a dedication to her memory as a token of my gratitude."

"Gratitude," Kazuya repeated the word to himself.

"Come, sit," Heihachi offered.

Kazuya eyed his father suspiciously. The only thing making this scene less disconcerting was the presence of Nina and Qiquiang along with the white robed army standing by their master's side. Beyond that, the former King of Iron Fist champion found the idea of even being offered to take a seat next to his father for what appeared to be afternoon tea to be a little too unsettling.

"Come," Heihachi offered a second time.

After contemplating his father's offer in his head for the hundredth time, Kazuya approached the table cautiously and took his seat across from Heihachi.

* * *

Staying true to his word, Eddy began to slowly take apart his former employer little by little.

A kick to the side of the knees caused Jin to buckle under his weight. Another kick to the solar plexus brought Jin fully onto his knees. Spinning to his side, Eddy brought his feet against the side of his opponent's face and the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO and the King of Iron Fist fell.

Jin laid motionless on the ground, his mind barely registering the beating he took. Struggling on his hands and feet, he crawled aimlessly along the ground, blood dripping from his nose and lips. A pair of strong hands yanked him momentarily on his feet before slamming him face first back on the ground.

The crowd roared at Eddy's savagery with absolute approval.

Panda could not bear to watch, covering her eyes with her paw and curling herself close to the ground.

The muscled Brazilian continued to pummel his opponent, slapping him out of humiliation, slamming him sadistically to the ground with his powerful legs, pouring out his blood and sweat to the sand. For all the beatings he unleashed, Eddy found the experience to be completely unsatisfying. With barely contained rage, he carried on his torment, kicking him in the ribs, stomping him on the torso, driving his heel hard into the gut until Jin turned beet red. All this effort, with his former employer in the palm of his hand, yet Eddy could feel nothing but frustration in his heart.

He felt like he was losing more of his mind.

Jin managed to lift himself on his knees and looked up at the Brazilian with a glazed look in his expression. Roaring at the top of his lungs, Eddy lifted his right leg high into the air, and drove his heel straight into Jin's left shoulder.

_CRUNCH!_

"Yearrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!" Jin screamed as he felt his shoulder pop out of its socket. A foot in the face later, and his screams were no longer heard.

* * *

Kazuya could only stare in bemusement as he watched Nina coldly poured Heihachi a second cup of tea.

"What is wrong?" the master asked. "Do you not like the tea?"

The former G-Corporation CEO remained silent, his eyes watchful over the steaming beverage in his cup.

"Don't worry, the tea is not poisoned," Heihachi assured his son. "I would never stoop to such petty levels." Inclining his head, he added, "If I ever wished to… eliminate you, I would rather do so more… _personally_."

Kazuya snorted at his father. "What exactly am I doing here?" he grumbled suspiciously at the company's president.

Heihachi laughed quietly at the question posed. "Is it too much for a father to ask to spend some time with his son?" he chuckled. Kazuya replied with a sneer in his face. "Coming from you, of course it would," Heihachi sighed.

"Spare me the pleasantries, Heihachi," Kazuya frowned angrily. "Why have I been summoned? What is your angle?"

"You wound me," Heihachi said. "I realize we had our differences in the past, and I realize the rift between us would not be something that can be bridged overnight, but I would hope that we would cast aside our hostilities, if only temporary, and at the very least have a civilized conversation."

"Huh…" Kazuya scoffed.

"I do not jest," Heihachi raised his hand. "I have no reason to continue this conflict with you. The world has changed, Kazuya. _I_ have changed. I would daresay that I have… evolved in my thinking."

Kazuya crooked his brow. He was becoming quite certain that his father had lost his mind. "Evolved?"

Stroking his white moustache, Heihachi smiled and nodded. "And I wish to share in this wisdom. With you… and with Jin."

* * *

"Kazama!" Eddy hollered.

The former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO winced, the decibels within the arena causing him some discomfort. The dusty ground had become a very familiar sight during these last few… minutes… seconds… hours… for all Jin cared, it could very well be years since his head was beaten up so bad, time practically stood still for him.

Circling Jin like a raving lunatic, the muscled Brazilian frantically wiped the sweat and saliva off his face with the back of his hands. Stopping in front of his wounded prey, Eddy scowled at his opponent with loathing in his eyes, and, reaching down with his hand, lifted his head up by the hair. His breathing shallow, Eddy looked at the wretched object of his hatred directly in the face.

"Heh…" Jin gurgled. "What… what are you waiting… for…"

"Hah!" Eddy cried out, slamming Jin's face back to the ground. With the crowd chanting behind him, the Brazilian began circling his former employer again, stumbling slightly in his steps. Meanwhile, Jin managed to roll on his back, and dazedly glanced up at his former bodyguard. Once again, Eddy stopped in his tracks, and looked him straight in the eye.

"Heh… is… is that all?" Jin mumbled under his breath, forcing a smile on his face.

"Shut up!" Eddy hollered, kicking the man on the wounded shoulder. Jin uttered out a cry, yet remained stationary on the ground.

"Heh… hah… pa… pathetic…" Jin forced the words out of his lips.

"What did you say to me, pretty boy!" Eddy seethed, locking his hand around Jin's neck.

"Huh… y… you heard me…" Jin choked. "P-pa… pathetic…"

For a brief moment, the capoeirista stared down at the pitiful piece of scum in his hand. His face hardened, twisted, contorted into an expression of bitter malevolence.

"Pathetic…" Jin coughed the word out… and laughed in his face.

Eddy snapped at the remark and began pummeling away at his opponent's head, much to the delight of the audience. Punch after punch, blow after blow, lefts after rights, the Brazilians fists became a blur as blood stained his knuckles. The faster he punched, the deeper his hatred went, the more he felt himself lose control…

* * *

Kazuya looked at his father cynically.

"That… is quite a performance you are giving me, I will give you that," Kazuya snickered. "Evolution, change, wisdom, humanity… a very powerful speech, but not the most convincing fairy tale you have spun on account of your personal track record of deceit."

"But it is true," Heihachi replied. The master's eyes wandered momentarily towards the pond. As ridiculous as it may seem, Kazuya couldn't help but think that his father was actually admiring the scenery.

How… 'un-Heihachi-like' of him.

"For all our advances in our sciences and technology, humanity has not been as quick to evolve with it," Heihachi continued. "In fact, humanity is doing a great job of destroying itself… and the world with it."

"Spare me the lectures," Kazuya rubbed his temples.

"Since taking over this company, I began to study our society as a whole," the master ignored his son's comment and explained himself further. "I also began to contemplate my past. What I had accomplished. And though I cannot fully explain my experiences, what I had concluded was that, for all my hardships and achievements, they amounted to nothing. And then I found these gardens… gentle in appearance, yet majestic in its splendor. Back before the third tournament, I once used the Mishima Zaibatsu's powers to stop wars in conflicted nations, to soothe the hunger in third world countries, used research to cure people of all sorts of diseases, all under a pretense of peace."

"Is this conversation supposed to go somewhere?" Kazuya asked disdainfully.

The old man chuckled, not taken aback by his son's conceit. "I shall spare you the stories," he said, taking another sip of his tea. "The point being, I saw the world – the _real_ world, I saw its nature, and in its beauty, I found a higher calling. I wish to heal the world, and with it, help humanity to grow."

If Kazuya had any tea in his mouth, he would spit it in his father's face. "Next you will tell me you are no longer interested in ruling the world."

"Well… I wouldn't go that far," Heihachi admitted. "But a world isn't worth ruling without its people."

The former G-Corporation CEO stared at his father in silence. "Where do I even begin…" Kazuya snapped back. "Mind controlled slaves," he gestured towards the emotionless Nina, "puppet servants at your beck and call, the tournament itself… oh, and then there is your pet project, Hanako…" Chuckling to himself, Kazuya crossed his legs and leaned against his chair. "I used that line on Jin once. The line where I said I wanted to save the world. He wasn't very amused; made my blood run cold for even saying it. You can only imagine how that would sound coming from you." Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he added, "I suppose at least you admit to having some desire to become king of the world, but healing the world, bringing about humanity's growth… for someone who claims to have seen the world in a different light, I see more or less the same thing as the… 'old' Heihachi would do. In short, I'm afraid I don't see how all this is supposed to lead to the salvation of humanity."

Heihachi rubbed back of his bald scalp. "Though I loathe to admit this, there is one thing I do admire about Jin. Do you know what that is?"

"Enlighten me."

"Jin… our very own flesh and blood… saw the bigger picture," he said. "For humanity to realize its own failings, small changes are not enough. It requires a complete shakeup from the top down." Folding his hands beneath his chin, Heihachi smirked. "And one of the things he concluded was this: to heal the world, especially one as diseased as ours, pain is an unavoidable necessity."

* * *

The former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO moaned inaudibly as the pummeling finally stopped. Though the crowd still reveled in the brutality, Eddy felt nothing but contempt.

Contempt over his fallen opponent…

…and contempt for his own failings.

The capoeirista dropped to his hands and knees and gasped for breath. His heart pounded heavily in his chest, his shoulders felt burdened, and his body still quivering from the exertion. Sweat drenched his face and dripped from his brow.

"Huh… hehehehe… tell me… tell me that wasn't the best you had… was it?"

Eddy looked down at Jin with astonishment. Even after all the beatings, even though he was nothing but a decrepit piece of trash under his heel, his former employer… that demonic hellspawn of dirty blood… still had the strength… the _gall_… to belittle him. How dare he laugh at him!

How… _dare_… he!

Ambling over to Jin, Eddy abruptly grabbed him by the neck and raised his other hand in a fist. "Say that to me again! I dare you!"

His face feeling numb, Jin looked up at the vengeful Brazilian, and grinned. "I wonder…" he began. "I wonder how Ho Chi Myong would think… acting like a weak little child… failing to protect his granddaughter…"

Jin felt the oxygen gradually cut off as Eddy's hand began to tighten.

"And you… call yourself an avenger…" he gasped under the Brazilian's choking grip.

"Shut up," the Brazilian seethed.

"You know… I went to the hospital to visit your mestre in his deathbed…" Jin continued to goad his former bodyguard. "I… I remember it so clearly… like it was yesterday…"

"Shut up."

"I watched as the disease took hold…"

"Shut up."

"Eating him away so slowly…"

"Shut up…"

"His breathing… so shallow…"

"Shut up!"

"I mean… heh… he was nothing but skin and bones…"

"Are you deaf!"

"And just like that…"

"I said shut the **** up you son of a *****!"

"His heart just… stopped."

An eternity of silence followed those biting words.

Within the roda, one of the most integral parts of the jogo is the music. For the capoerista, music sets the tempo of the match, determines the rhythm, the style of game. For Eddy, within the deadliest roda in the whole world, there was only one song he could hear, one rhythm he was attuned to, elegant in its tune, yet barbaric at the same time. It was a song beyond simple vengeance.

It was the song of blood.

Roaring to the reaches of the heavens and to the depths of the grave, Eddy picked up his former employer with brute strength, and slammed him hard to the ground. Jin felt his body bounce a couple of times, nearly rolling onto his injured shoulder as he landed, then came to a dead stop. Coughing up crimson, the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO still had enough breath to laugh. As expected, Eddy fell into a complete tantrum, and pounced towards his opponent.

_CRUNCH!_

A kick to the face momentarily silenced his tongue.

Again, it was only momentarily…

"Getting better…" Jin groaned under his breath, sprawling on his back. "Still… still weak… pathetic…"

_CRUNCH!_

Another kick, this time to the side, sent Jin flying towards the direction of the barred entrance. His body slammed against the steel gate, the force of impact causing it to rattle violently, and put Panda into a livid frenzy.

"Oof!"

Bouncing off the steel bars, Jin slumped on the ground face down in a prone position. More dust and sand went into his mouth, forcing his gag reflex to come into effect. Eddy's lips curled into a snarl while walking ominously towards him.

"Ugh… oh my… finally some real improvement!" Jin cackled. "Now that is the Eddy I remembered!"

The Brazilian increased his pace as he gradually closed the distance between the two.

"Ah… and… and I see… you are motivated now…" Jin continued. "Maybe… maybe if you had been like this from the start…"

Eddy loomed over the reigning King of Iron Fist champion, nails digging into his fists.

"Well… maybe Christie might still be here…"

_CRACK!_

_CRASH!_

Jin felt his body lifted off the ground and bounce off the steel girders again. The guards behind the fence tried desperately to keep Panda under control with moderate success.

"I… I wasn't there to see what happened to her…"

"Shut up!"

_CRUNCH!_

"Yeargh!" Jin yelped, as Eddy deliberately kicked him on his injured shoulder. "Tell me… how did you fail to protect her?"

_SMACK!_

_CRUNCH!_

The Brazilian slammed his former employer's body away from the fence, taking care to keep out of reach of the giant panda bear.

"I… I can only assume… she got caught like the other fighters did… am I right?"

"Argh!" Eddy roared, lifting Jin off his feet and pinning his body against the wall.

"And were you watching when she had her soul sucked dry?" Jin continued his scathing remarks.

Saliva dripping down his chin, the Brazilian began beating his former employer with an array of kicks and slaps. Little technique was involved in the whole match, but now it truly became nothing more than a display of pure savagery. And the crowd loved every minute of it.

After the pummeling stopped, Jin crumpled back to the ground on his knees. Eddy stood towering over his former employer's broken figure, shaking uncontrollably in his scorn.

"Huh… heh…" Jin chuckled. "I also… I also have to wonder… what you did… when Kazuya took away your family…"

If Eddy wasn't losing all his sanity before, that final comment truly brought him over the edge as the Brazilian bashed his opponent with a renewed vigor. Over and over the blows came, the incessant rhythm running repeatedly in his mind as Eddy bared every ounce of spite and malice onto Jin, sparing him no quarter.

Finally, the dust settled. Eddy stood over his opponent, while Jin laid flat on the ground –

"Not… finished… yet…"

The Brazilian was startled and dismayed as he watched Jin somehow crawl with one arm in his beaten and broken state onto his knees. Kneeling before Eddy, the bloodied King of Iron Fist champion looked his opponent straight in the eye, and chuckled.

"Heh…" he croaked. "Close… close to ridding the world… of one more demon…"

Still filled with rage, Eddy looked at Jin dumbfounded.

"Want to be a hero?" Jin asked.

Eddy loomed over the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO, gnashing his teeth.

"One more shot… to make this… all right for you…"

With one arm limping to the side from injury, Jin spread open the other arm, exposing his vulnerability for the Brazilian to exploit.

"Well?"

Eddy stood looking down at Jin lost in his rage.

"What are you waiting for? Take your revenge…"

Consumed by his hatred, Eddy mustered all his strength, pouring his energy to his leg for a final attack.

"Come on! Don't keep everyone waiting!"

In one final roar, the Brazilian lifted his leg off the ground, and, swinging his body, threw his leg out for his coup d'état…

_CRUNCH!_

…and then, there was nothing…


	21. Stage 20

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 20_

The third day came and went in an instant. Day four of the tournament arrived.

Before the day officially began, Lars went over the plans once more with his team. Infiltration of the highest levels wasn't going to be easy, especially with the two day mandate they had given themselves. Minutes ticked by, all possible scenarios they could come up with were collectively heard, all contingencies for the worst were being accounted for. Everyone within the Swede's former unit was so caught up in their strategies that none of them noticed the presence of an intruder quietly breaking into their hideout.

"So glad of you to finally join us."

None of them, save for Lars, that is.

The other members of the Specials were startled out of their wits as Raven casually strode in.

"What have you got so far?" the ninja asked all business-like.

"More progress, thanks to the information you gave us," Lars replied. "It still won't be easy, but at least with these keycards we 'liberated' from a few employees along with your added assistance, we have a working plan for tonight."

"Hmm," Raven nodded gruffly and, making his way over to the circle of former soldiers and old comrades, put his hand over the blueprints of the compound and scrutinized its contents. The agent then went over the rest of the items collected and studied out the plans laid out. "You certain this will work?"

"We don't have much of a choice," the Swede answered. "The tournament's end is fast approaching, and my instincts tell me our window of opportunity is shrinking. Tonight is as good an opportunity as any."

Raven adjusted his shades on the bridge of his nose.

"My men will also be on standby, ready to assist," the ninja said. "They will be the ones to draw out their security and take the heat off our backs. We will rendezvous at the Southwest corridor on the second level as we had agreed on."

"We shall infiltrate, deal with their security seals, and move in accordingly," Lars finished. "Alpha 2, you have our equipment?"

"Prepped and waiting, sir," Alpha 2 answered affirmatively.

"Then it is settled," Lars clasped his hands.

"See you in a few hours," Raven replied in his typical stoic expression. And in a blink of an eye, the ninja vanished.

* * *

As Lars and his ragtag team began to finalize the details before wrapping up, listening and observing the meeting well away even from the Swede's sharp senses, a petite, delicate young woman leaned anxiously against the wall hugging sadly to herself.

Playing with her long, pink tresses, the woman had thoughts of walking up to the men and even turned and took a step towards them. Reaching out with her hand stretched forward, she stopped in her tracks. Clasping her hands close to her chest, she sighed to herself, thinking better of approaching them unannounced, she leaned her back against the wall once more and quietly slumped on the ground.

The diminutive woman stared at her hands on her lap. She smiled to herself, her childlike expression one of eternal childlike purity and innocence, yet her emerald green eyes were filled with melancholy and dejection. She was supposed to be his ally, his partner, his friend… his family. They have been through a lot over these past few years. And yet she felt left out.

And though he had explained to him his reasons, all she could think to herself was… why didn't he want her help?

Why?

_Why…_

* * *

Sometime during the afternoon, Kyuuto wanted to have a drink.

Badly.

He should be happy. After all, Hanako had been returned in time for the tournament, the master's plans went on without a hitch, and even with suspicions of Soleil's activities and the disappearances of many fighters around the globe, there was little or nothing anyone could do about it. Very soon, with the completion of Hanako and ultimately the Gaia Project, the master would be heralded as a hero, Soleil would become more profitable than the company had ever know, and Kyuuto himself would ride that wave of success towards richer pastures.

The businessman, however, felt nervous. He had been tempted to drink on several occasions, and each time, either something comes up to stop him from drinking, or if he did manage to bring the glass to his lips, he simply blanched at the taste of alcohol. Kyuuto never did like the taste of alcohol, much less something 'exotic' like whiskey.

Kyuuto stared at the glass intently, watching the large cubes of ice float within the golden orange liquid.

He really wanted to have a drink…

Really badly…

A knock on the door brought the businessman back to reality.

"Come!" he said in the most authoritative voice he could muster. The moment the door opened, his demeanor changed from authoritative to meek. "How… how did you manage your way here?" he stuttered.

"Let us not worry about the little details, hm?" Anna winked, and sauntered to the businessman's desk.

Flustered, the businessman cleared his throat in a failed attempt to calm himself. "Wh-what are you d-doing here?"

"Checking out the scenery," a second voice answered. Kyuuto's nervousness shot up as Bruce followed right behind the Irish woman. The kick boxer whistled, admiring the coziness of the office. "This place is bigger than my own living room."

"Anything is bigger than your own living room," Anna quipped.

"Beeeeeeeeeh!" Bruce made a funny face towards the brunette. Anna stuck her tongue out playfully.

"P-please," Kyuuto begged quietly. "What do you want from me?"

"Now why you so scared, man?" Bruce chuckled and strode next to the businessman while Anna gently hopped onto the desk. Wrapping an arm around the businessman, Bruce continued, "If it's about the dress code, I got my tie on." The kick boxer pointed to a striped tie haphazardly wrapped around his neck. Amidst the jeans, chains, steel toed boots, and purple muscle shirt, it was the only part of his attire that would constitute as formal.

"N-no, n-not that," Kyuuto stuttered.

"What is it then?" Anna purred seductively.

Kyuuto swallowed a lump in his throat. "I-it's… it's just…"

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeees?" the brunette winked.

"It's just that you could draw too much attention…" his voice trailed off as he shirked back in his seat.

"Pffft, is that all?" Bruce chuckled. "And I thought it was because of her feet." The kick boxer scrunched his face, leaned closer to the businessman's ear, and made a gesture towards the brunette on the desk. "They stink, don't they?"

"Shut up," Anna threw a pencil at Bruce's head. "You are such an ***."

"And you're still hot, babe," Bruce replied, clicking his tongue and gestured at the woman with his index and middle fingers pointing at her.

"Really, what is it you want from me?" Kyuuto pleaded.

Anna and Bruce looked at each other, then faced the businessman with toothy grins on their faces. Kyuuto wanted to dig a hole and crawl in it.

"Not much, Mr. Ishida," Anna replied first.

"We just checking your crib," Bruce added.

"More importantly, Kazuya sent us to make sure you uphold your end of the bargain," Anna reminded Kyuuto.

"You got some nice digs." Bruce interjected, admiring the posh furnishings before his eyes zoomed in on one particular piece of furniture in the office. "But, yes, just checking to see if you remembered our agreement."

"Which is to help us hold off the security a bit and open up access for some of our friends to enter the labs," Anna finished. "After that, you will be rewarded quite nicely as per our deal."

"Actually, she's the one here to do all the rewarding, if you catch my drift," Bruce interjected. "Me, I'm gonna enjoy this here sofa," he immediately dashed away from the nervous businessman and jumped into the large, leather sofa leaning against the wall. His body sank into the comfortable cushions as he let out a satisfied, "Oooooooooooooohhhhhhhhh…"

"You are such a dumb ***," Anna gaped at Bruce, then looked at the glass on front of the businessman. "You gonna drink this?"

Kyuuto sighed and shook his head. Anna smiled delightfully and helped herself to the whiskey.

* * *

Later on in the day, Takeda watched with mild interest as Minamoto gathered the rest of their equipment.

"Are you going to help me or not?" the kunoichi snarled.

"No, no, you're doing a fine job by yourself," Takeda waved his hand, his eyes studying the curves of his partner's elegant figure. "Yes… a very fine job…"

The ninja's thoughts were interrupted by a pillow to the face.

"Lecherous… indignant… ugh!" Minamoto grunted angrily to the ceiling.

"Alright, alright," the blue haired man shook his head indignantly and walked over to assist her. "So, you all settled on the plan?" he asked, packing the weapons in their respected cases.

"So long as Mr. Mishima upholds his end of the bargain, and you don't bring that grotesque weapon, yes I am satisfied," the red haired kunoichi replied.

"I've got Kazuya taken care of… and you're still not over that incident?" he looked at her quizzically.

"So long as you continue to hide it in the closet, I most certainly am not."

Takeda was taken aback. "Uh… what closet?" he asked innocently.

The red haired kunoichi pulled her partner by the ear and, amidst his yelping, dragged him towards the closet. Slamming the closet door open, she quickly kicked aside various clothes and suitcases before pulling out a massive case with the words 'Grand Poobah' labeled on the surface. Takeda relented at the evidence.

"Look, I wasn't gonna use it for the mission," he said, rubbing his aching ear. "I was… you know, gonna use the thing afterwards."

Minamoto gave the blue haired ninja a disbelieving glance.

"I swear it!" Takeda waved his hands.

The red haired woman hefted the case in her hand and walked towards the door.

"No, no, no, no, no," Takeda trailed behind the kunoichi and pleaded. "Don't toss it away! I have yet to try it out."

"No," Minamoto said flatly.

"Please?"

Minamoto glared at the man wordlessly.

"I'll wear the black dress…" Takeda offered. The blue haired ninja received a slap in the face for his efforts.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Jin Kazama finally woke up. Though he felt sore, his body had indeed recovered from the thrashing he received.

"Congratulations on winning your match," was the first thing Jin heard when he came to.

Recognizing the voice, the first move he attempted was to swing his fist at the direction of the source. Unfortunately for Jin, and fortunately for said source, he couldn't lift his arm to perform such a move as his wrists were bound to the bed. For a brief moment, he struggled with the binds angrily to no avail.

Thus, Jin switched to his next (and only) move available…

"What are you talking about?" Jin grimaced.

"Should I speak a little slower for you?" Kazuya quipped. "I said… con-gra-tu-la-tions… on… win-ning… your… match."

The reigning King of Iron Fist champion looked at his father confused.

"You have no idea what happened, don't you?" Kazuya asked matter-of-fact. "I was occupied at the time courtesy of the old man so I never had the chance to watch your match," the former G-Corporation CEO shuddered at the memory, "but I caught first glimpse of the end result. Impressive to say the least."

"What… what's going on – "

"How about I let you figure that one out on your own?" Kazuya grinned maliciously. "I don't want to ruin the surprise."

"What happened!" Jin struggled in his restraints once more. "What happened to Eddy – " That was when he noticed the blood stains on his hands. Blood that clearly wasn't his own…

"Your brain hasn't been dulled after all," Kazuya observed. "Good. It makes discussing our plans much easier."

"Plans?"

"Do not make me hit you, boy."

The former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO felt the life drain from him as he slumped his head back onto the pillow. "I'm not in the mood," Jin muttered.

The former G-Corporation CEO looked down at his son and folded his arms. "I'm afraid you don't have a choice," Kazuya countered.

* * *

Around the same time, the android named 'Black Jack' fought another round in the tournament.

In about the next 7.45 seconds, Jack would claim yet another victory in the tournament. While it certainly felt more satisfying than the first match, it wasn't quite enough of a fight for the droid to display his raw power as he clenched his gargantuan fist and unleashed a devastating blow to his opponent. Even without using his full strength, his significantly smaller (and weaker) opponent found himself smacked against the wall. A couple of milliseconds later, said opponent unceremoniously fell face first to the ground.

Predictable.

"The winner!"

Down went his opponent, and once more his strength proved to be unsurpassed. At least that's what Jack told himself over and over as he ambled his way out of the ring. It was the only comforting thought he took away from this farce of a match.

Speaking of farce…

"Jack," a voice called out to him.

At the sound of his name, the android turned towards the source, and had to refrain himself from reaching out and squeezing the life out of the scientist standing before him. He did not, of course, though he was _that_ close to doing it…

"Congratulations on your victory," Kalina said. "Before you leave, I have an assignment for you. A rather simple one for someone of your… expertise."

* * *

The android was almost surprised to find how much easier it was to even walk up to the front desk of the hospital, never mind be granted permission to visit Jane. Given the ultimatums he had received and the heavy security posted, Jack almost found it rather unusual to see such measures being lax.

No matter, Jack found himself sitting next to Jane, a little healthier than before, he observed, yet still comatose. The physicians weren't sure what was wrong with her, though the android himself didn't believe it. As far as he was concerned, they were under orders to simply keep her stabilized to ensure the android's cooperation, though the doctors insisted that he condition was simply day-to-day.

Jack had regretted many decisions he made in his programmed 'life'. The android was more than certain he would have many more regrets should he remain functional for years to come. At the moment, however, he could not possibly find anything more regrettable than the decision to bring Jane to Soleil and put himself under their mercy.

…except for allowing the woman to get injured in the first place. Processing those memories, Jack's guilt grew exponentially.

Just as it was in the beginning, the android weighed his options. He hated all of them.

The android sulked to himself. Turning towards the sleeping Jane, he gingerly placed his massive hand on her head and brushed her blonde locks tenderly. The metal giant allowed himself to smile, finding her company, even unconscious, to be therapeutic… though he would much rather she be awake.

Then again, given that he signed what was the equivalent of a soul to the company of wolves in sheep's clothing, the droid couldn't help but wonder what Jane would think of him now. Would she be able to forgive him, given that he helped to contribute to the mass genocide around the world? Or would she hate him… fear him and never look at him again? He was a war machine, he was built for combat… but even Jack had his limits.

The android checked the time on his internal clock.

Two hours, three minutes, twenty seven seconds left…

Jack really hated his options.

The android gently nudged the woman's face with his large index finger and stood up. Walking towards the door, Jack could only hope that when Jane finally wakes up from her deep sleep, she would never have to see him again…

* * *

Evening approached, and Lars' team of former Tekken Force Specials waited patiently near the entrance to make their move.

"How much longer do we wait?" Alpha 2 asked.

"According to my watch, twelve more minutes," Lars answered assuredly. "I wouldn't worry so much. Raven will be on time."

"I'm not worried," Alpha 2 replied. "Just… concerned about our 'friends', nothing more."

"And your 'concern' has been noted, just like the last twenty three times," the Swede said.

"You actually keep count of those things?"

"Sorry, couldn't help it," Lars shrugged.

Alpha 2 scoffed at his leader.

"Not that I don't understand your feelings," Lars admitted. "After all, we are taking a huge gamble in this. But if there's one thing I've learned about these agent types, they're rather punctual. More or less."

* * *

Meanwhile, a small entourage of black armored vehicles gathered at another location outside Soleil's tower. Sitting in the passenger side of the lead vehicle, Raven quietly studied the plans for the last time, committing the blueprints to memory.

"Time?"

"Ten minutes, thirty four seconds," the driver confirmed.

"Plenty of time," Raven nodded. "Once we arrive at our location, I'm handing command over to you while I bring the infiltration unit with me."

"Understood," the driver replied.

As the vehicles rounded a corner, a faint black 'blur' caught the ninja's attention.

"Did you see that?" Raven asked in a low monotone.

"See what?"

The ninja furrowed his brow and glanced out at the tinted windows. Never one to doubt his senses, Raven scanned the streets intently, leaving no proverbial stone unturned.

"What is it?" the driver asked.

That was when something crashed onto the roof of the car.

"What the hell!" the driver hollered. Spinning the wheel frantically, the driver was able to keep the vehicle steady in spite of the suddenness, albeit just barely as the car nearly toppled off the road before coming to a complete stop.

"Phew… Raven, you alright?" the driver asked.

The ninja didn't utter a word as he reached for his blades behind his back. Puzzled, the driver turned to the direction Raven was looking. That was the last thing he saw as the bulletproof windshield shattered and a hand plucked him out of the vehicle.

* * *

"Time?" Lars asked.

"Three minutes, twelve seconds," Alpha 2 answered.

* * *

Breathing heavily, Raven swiped at the intruder with his blades. A quick slash with his left, followed by a second slash with the right, both attacks evaded by the robed man with an unnatural sway of the head. Gritting his teeth, the ninja stepped forward, spun on his heel, and delivered a kick aimed squarely at the enemy's head.

Meanwhile, the rest of the team behind him was in chaos as four other robed men hovered towards the vehicles and proceeded to pick off each agent one by one.

"All units, head to the rendezvous point, now!" the ninja barked over his earpiece as he barely managed to avoid a punch to the face. "I will hold them off and meet you – "

Raven was interrupted as yet another robed man descended from the night sky and landed behind the ninja. Keen senses allowed the agent to step to the side just enough to avoid receiving the full blow of a hard chop aimed for the side of his neck. Instead, the attack hit him on the right shoulder, causing the ninja to drop one of his blades and momentarily falter in his steps.

"What are you waiting for!" the ninja yelled.

The answer to his question, as he fought back the robed men, came in the form of several gunshots from a member of his team… or rather an apparent mole in his team dressed in the uniform of his unit riddled the cars of his entourage with bullets, managing to kill or seriously wound some of the agents in his rampage. Letting out a throaty growl under his breath, Raven blocked one of the robed men with his right forearm, and with his free hand, quickly performed a succession of signs and postures of his kuji-in. Irradiant power channeled through his body, and in a flash, the ninja disappeared from his spot. Immediately, Raven reappeared in front of the gunman, blade aimed for the neck.

"Hah!"

With one motion of his arm, the ninja managed to decapitate the gunman with his blade. To his shock, the body remained standing while the head hit the ground with a hollow 'thunk'…

…as though it was made of wood.

"Great…" he muttered derisively, kicking the lunging headless body away before it got a chance to attack him.

Snapping his head to the side, another of his agents leapt to the air to attack the ninja. Instinctively, Raven stepped away from the 'agent' and watched him slam his fist through concrete. With a grunt, Raven, spinning his body clockwise, landed a succession of kicks with the right followed by the left, then connected with a flurry of hard strikes with his fists before slamming the 'agent' back to the ground with his heel.

The 'agent' shattered under the force of the kick… literally. The body was torn in two as splinters and wood chips flew from impact. That was when a third 'agent' attacked.

And a fourth.

And a fifth.

Eventually, the robed men also joined in the battle, pushing the ninja on the defensive.

"How can this mission get any worse?"

The answer to _that_ question initially came in the form of a pair of blows to the midsection, followed by a strike to the head. A roundhouse kick completed the combination, sending the ninja spinning to the ground. Dazed from the sudden attack, the ninja shook the cobwebs in his head and jumped back to his feet, snapping his attention towards his newest attacker: an elderly man, one whose wizened face had seen and experienced life as few had ever imagined, stepped calmly towards Raven with prayer beads in his hand.

"I just had to open my mouth…" Raven murmured.

As always, Qiquiang's expression remained ever peaceful, soothing, and calm. With a smile and nod of his head, the marionettes surrounded both the ninja and the monk, forming a pseudo ring in the middle of the street. Then, with legs held rampart, and arms slightly raised, Qiquiang stepped into his fighting stance, and waited for his opponent to respond…

* * *

Two minutes since the scheduled time had passed…

"Punctual, you say?" Alpha 2 asked.

"More or less," Lars added with emphasis.

* * *

"Not bad," Raven muttered under his breath.

The ever tranquil Qiquiang replied with a succession of open palmed strikes, parrying the ninja's own punches and, balancing on his left leg, countering with a flurry of kicks with his right leg. Raven blocked the first four initial kicks with his arms, parried the fifth, and struck low with his single blade aimed for the midsection. The monk quickly responded by stepping back and raising his left leg in a single motion, deftly blocking the strike without the blade touching him. Bringing his arm back, the ninja began to throw a succession of hard strikes at the monk with blade and fist alike, each of them blocked by a pair of deceptively strong, nimble legs. Qiquiang then struck out with his right leg, which Raven managed to weave his head away from the limb and threw himself into a back flip, and landed on the ground crouching low. Waving his arms in a grandiose display, the monk flicked the sleeves of his robe, and stepped into a neutral position.

The marionettes, robed men and pseudo agents alike, remained still as statues as the two opponents took a momentary break in the fight to study the other. Raven rose to his feet, waving the blade in his hand before resuming his fighting stance.

"Not bad for an old man…"

Qiquiang beamed at the ninja and acknowledged with a bow of his head before raising his left palm, though still remained in his neutral pose.

"You're welcome," the ninja seethed.

* * *

Four minutes since the scheduled time had passed…

"No sign of our ninja friend," Alpha 2 said.

"Patience," Lars said. "He will come through."

* * *

Raven toppled backwards and fell hard to the ground, courtesy of a single clout of the monk's right hand to the chest, causing the ninja to drop his remaining sword.

Resting his palms on the concrete, the ninja tried to push himself back to a standing position, only to stumble back. Reaching to his chest with his right hand, Raven shuddered and choked like a wounded animal, his left hand the only thing keeping the ninja from keeling over.

"BLARGH!"

Blood sprayed from his gaping mouth as Raven began to feel the effects of the clout. Qiquiang smiled at the ninja, the ever peaceful expression becoming an annoyance to the agent on the ground. Like any fighter or agent with a sense of pride, Raven slowly wiped the blood off his lips and gradually rose to a standing position.

_CRUNCH!_

Like any other experienced fighter, Qiquiang immediately went on the offensive and used that moment of weakness to strike at the ninja. Raven was barely able to lift a finger as the monk's hook kick grazed his arm and connected to the side of the head. The monk wasn't finished, as he spun his body to deliver yet a second kick with his left leg, connecting to the opposite side of the ninja's head. Balancing on his left leg once again, Qiquiang threw another succession of kicks, low, mid, high, head, chest, midsection, the soles of his feet delivering one devastating blow after the other. At the apex of his combination, the monk took a short hop back and, twisting his body to the side, lifted both legs to the air, and sent the ninja spinning in the air with a butterfly kick.

"Guh!"

The marionettes in unison hovered out of the way as Raven tumbled in the air towards the wreckage of one of the black cars. The ninja hit the vehicle with such force that the chassis practically caved in. Time felt like an eternity as Raven remained motionless on his back, somewhat thankful for his tough hide… though it did little to nothing to ease the pain he felt. The small pieces of glass digging into his dark skin certainly did not help his cause.

"Ugh…" Raven moaned, lifting his forearm to his head.

Six minutes past the deadline…

_****!_

Rolling off the roof of the car, he struggled to regain a footing while the monk and the marionettes looked on. Mere meters away, an object caught the ninja's eye: a rocket launcher. Turning to the monk, then back at the marionettes, Raven wiped another drizzle of blood off his lips.

"Apologies," he groaned. "But I have an appointment to catch."

With that, the ninja leapt towards the precious weapon, grasped it in both arms, and rolled to a kneeling position. Spinning his body around, he pointed the rocket launcher at the monk, and without a second of hesitation, pulled the trigger…

* * *

Before Lars or Alpha 2 could continue their conversation, a loud explosion shook them back to their senses.

"Better late than never," the Swede remarked. "Alright men, move out!"


	22. Stage 21

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 21_

It was a rather quiet evening for the guards stationed at the entrance to the labs. In fact, it had been several quiet evenings for the guards since they were stationed only a scant few days ago. While others would be busy dealing with the tournament or continue their development on Hanako, they merely had to stand at a door and pretend to look busy. One could say it was rather… well… boring.

Then again… given they happen to be paid rather handsomely for their 'efforts', _that_ would be a good thing. Neither was in the mood to get killed tonight, or any night for that matter.

The clock continued to tick as time painfully ebbed. Only a few more hours and they would be relieved of their station for the next schmuck to take over…

"Hi."

_SNAP!_

_CRUNCH!_

…and then, one by one, the guards fell without even a hint of struggle.

"And the rest… was silence," Takeda grinned, dusting off his hands loudly.

"Shh, keep it down!" Minamoto hushed to her partner while slowly lowering the body of one of the unconscious guards to the floor.

"Sorry," Takeda apologized. The blue haired ninja hoisted the bodies over his shoulders and quickly stuffed them behind a small room without making a noise. "That was easy enough."

"And it gets more difficult from here," the kunoichi stated flatly.

"Yes, of course," Takeda gestured with his hand. "If it wasn't difficult, we might actually get the job done much quicker. You know we can't have that."

Looking away from the ninja, Minamoto smiled at her partner's remark before refocusing on the task at hand once more. "Let us get this over with," she said, sliding her mask over her face. Pulling an access key from her belt, she swiped the card over the slot and quickly punched in a code on the door's panel. With a quiet click, the door to the labs unlocked.

The blue haired ninja lifted his left hand and touched the back of his left ear with the middle and index finger together. With a quiet hum, pieces of armored 'sections' suddenly appeared from his collar and wrapped themselves around his head, forming the helmet and demonic mask of his cybernetic armor. Pulling out his Berettas, Takeda made one final check of his weapons and his armor's systems, then made a gesture towards the door.

"Ladies first," he offered.

* * *

The quiet patter of footsteps echoed the hallways as Lars and his team entered the labs with little resistance. As the team ambled through the dark corridors of the tower towards their appointed destination, the Swede, taking point, kept his eyes peeled for any lingering security.

Left, right, right, left, through and through the endless maze of hallways and corridors, bypassing the guards they went. Lars had to admit, in spite of the late start, it was rather easy… perhaps a little _too_ easy…

Lars quickly raised his right hand to signal for his men to stop.

_What is it?_ Alpha 2 mouthed to his commander wordlessly.

The Swede took a peek behind the corridor towards the doorway. Two armed guards by the door, plus three more patrolling the space.

Turning to his men, Lars signaled to two of his men, gesturing with his hands directions while the rest remained stationary. Taking point once more, the Swede signaled to one of his men to fire a smoke grenade towards the direction of the guards. The grenade popped out of the gun with a quiet 'poof', sailing in an arc to its destination and, bouncing along the tiled floor, clattered against a pair of dark, heavy boots.

_HISS…_

Immediately, Lars bolted to his feet and charged into the smoke, grabbing the first guard in front of him by the face as he headed straight towards the other two guarding the door, while two of his men bee-lined to the sides to dispatch the rest of the patrol. A couple of loud cracks to the skull and a the sound of bodies hitting the floor later, the rest of Lars' Specials ran into the space and, donning their masks, began the task of checking and disabling the security within the perimeter using a code breaker and the security cards they had apprehended.

"How long do you think they will respond?" Alpha 2 asked his commander.

"Hopefully, long enough for us to get out," Lars answered.

"Commander, we're in."

Lars inhaled deeply. "This is the moment of truth. No turning back."

"Tough luck for us," Alpha 2 replied.

With a smirk, Lars gestured his head towards the door. Quietly, readying their weapons, the rest of the men followed close behind.

* * *

"That was a close one," Takeda breathed a sigh of relief.

"Huh…" Minamoto blinked. "Yes… a close one."

Both ninja and kunoichi looked towards the ground… or at least there _was_ a ground, until it opened up below their feet and nearly swallowed them into its dark abyss. Only quick reflexes kept both of them from falling into said dark abyss and plummet to their deaths. Ninja and kunoichi averted their eyes away from their feet.

"I don't think that was in the floor plan," the blue haired ninja spoke.

"No…" Minamoto muttered. "Not in the floor plan."

"Not at all…"

Not wishing to waste anymore time, the red haired kunoichi yanked Takeda by the arm and moved on.

* * *

"I definitely don't remember seeing this in the floor plan," Alpha 2 spoke evenly to his commander.

Lars couldn't answer his second-in-command at the moment as he was too occupied trying to catch one of his comrades and keep him up on his feet after what appeared to be lightning struck him squarely on the chest. The key words would be 'appear to be'. Otherwise, the soldier would have been dead.

"So, precisely what was that?" Lars asked.

Alpha 2 motioned to one of the other men in the unit to step forward. The soldier immediately scanned the walls for the source of the discharge through his visor and assessed the obstacle before them. Various graphics and readouts blinked in front of his eyes, the visuals nothing but gibberish to the average man.

"Well, sir," the soldier responded. "It's not fatal… that much is obvious. And I believe I can shut it down and get us through this area. That's the good news."

"And the bad news?" Alpha 2 asked.

"It will take some time, sir," the soldier replied.

"How much time?" Lars interjected.

The soldier contemplated his words. "Especially seeing as this is… dare I say it… the 'magical' type of security… with those special magical cards… oh… an hour, sir."

The Swede shook his head disapprovingly. "We don't have an hour."

"I was afraid you would say that, sir," the soldier sighed.

"You think you can break this thing faster?" Alpha 2 asked.

"Perhaps, if someone could give me a hand. Otherwise, we need another way around."

"Is there another way around?" the Swede said with a hint of urgency in his voice.

Alpha 2 shook his head. "This is the only route we've got."

"I was also afraid you would say that," Lars shook his head. Covering his face with both hands and rubbing his temples, the Swede pondered his options. "Patch me the readouts on that discharge."

"Yes, sir," the soldier answered and obediently showed his commander the data.

Lars pondered the readouts quietly to himself, pacing slowly and methodically back and forth while the rest of his unit watched.

"Sir?"

The Swede suddenly stopped in his tracks, startling the rest of his men. Cautiously, Lars raised his left hand in the direction of 'lightning's' source…

_CRRRRRRRRRCKKKKK!_

"Sir!"

…and immediately retracted his hand just as the discharge enveloped his arm. Lars doubled back, his arm momentarily going numb before he felt the circulation flow back to the limb.

"Sir, are you alright!"

"What the hell were you thinking!" Alpha 2 snapped.

Gasping for breath, Lars clutched his arm like an animal that had just been shot, trying to keep his breathing under control. Grasping the arm by the wrist, he stared at his unmoving hand and concentrated on at least willing his fingers to move. A few pin pricks to the finger tips, and he felt his index finger twitch.

"Hand me your tonfas," the Swede ordered.

"Huh?" Alpha 2 looked at his commander in confusion.

"Hand me your tonfas," Lars repeated, waggling his hand at his second-in-command.

Alpha 2 grunted and pulled out his tonfas from his belt. Twirling the heavy batons in his hands, he placed them hesitantly into the awaiting grasp of his leader.

"If you're about to do what I think you're about to do…"

"Yes, I am indeed doing what you think I'm about to do," Lars answered.

Alpha 2 clenched his fists tightly while the rest of the Specials looked at both men with a mixture of concern and confusion in their expressions. If there was one thing Alpha 2 had learned when dealing with his commander, once Lars made up his mind on something, no one can stop him. For one, he was stubborn. For another, he was stronger than the rest of the team combined. Both reasons combined would usually keep one from even thinking of attempting to change his mind…

…though it certainly didn't stop Alpha 2 from wanting to voice his objections…

"For the record, commander, I just want to say that what I you are about to do is reckless and much too risky even for you," Alpha 2 stated.

…which he did.

"Your objection has been noted," Lars answered. "You heard the man, though. It's not fatal. It just throws people. And it hurts a lot."

And as usual, the Swede ignored his warnings.

"Commander, please – "

"Stand aside, soldier."

Grinding his teeth, Alpha 2 did as he was told and gave Lars his space. Inhaling deeply, the Swede held both tonfas in each hand, gripping the weapon tightly by the handle. Standing in a neutral position with legs held rampart, he focused his attention towards the power source of the discharge, channeling his energy as crimson lightning crackled throughout his body. In a grandiose display, Lars crossed his arms over his head, tossed his fists to his sides, leaning his body back and lifting his head upward, the Swede let out a feral roar and ran straight into the storm…

_CRACKLE! CRRCCCKK! CZZRRCCCKKKK!_

The discharge completely enveloped the Swede, slowing down his momentum, yet unable to stop him as Lars held both tonfas in front of him while running to the power source.

_CRASH! SIZZLE!_

Breaking through the wall of 'lightning', Lars poured every ounce of strength into his charge and jammed the tonfas into the power source. The discharge flickered and crackled, its hold on the Swede slowly drained…

_BOOM!_

Lars felt his body thrown back as the security grid exploded. The soldiers quickly ran up to their commander, to which the Swede quickly held his hand up to stop them.

"I'm fine," Lars said shakily, slowly lifting himself up from the ground. "I… I've had worse…"

"Yes… indeed you have, commander," Alpha 2 growled.

"At least we can pass through," Lars smirked, the tingling sensation suddenly hitting him as he felt his balance slip.

"I don't know what to think of that stunt," Alpha 2 admitted, lending his shoulder and helping his leader support himself. "Pure guts, or…"

The Swede gave his second-in-command a wry grin. "Think of it this way… five percent guts… ninety-five percent…"

* * *

"…stupidity!" Minamoto hollered. "I don't know what you were thinking, but that was nothing but complete and utter foolishness!"

"I love you, too," Takeda gasped, lifting himself to his feet with the assistance of the wall on his back. The ninja quickly surveyed his surroundings. After one well placed right fist to the wall, no more 'lightning' field to worry about. Only a charred hole was left in its place. "Well, at least that lightning thingy won't be bothering us again." The red haired kunoichi gave him a dirty look. "Hey, I am not waiting for an hour for you to figure that thing out."

"Ugh…" Minamoto groaned. "Are you able to move?"

"I feel like dancing – whoa!" Takeda stumbled. Minamoto quickly caught her partner by the shoulders, allowing the ninja to regain his footing. "Thank you."

Minamoto sheepishly released her grip and turned away. Without uttering a word, the kunoichi scrambled to the door and began the task of unlocking it.

"Can you get us through?" Takeda asked, kneeling next to his partner, still reeling from the shock he received though certainly less disoriented than he was mere moments ago.

"Give me a moment…" Holding her wrist up, Minamoto flipped open her gauntlet's cover to reveal a miniature computer underneath. Plugging the computer to the door's terminal and sliding the access card through the slot, the kunoichi started punching the keys with her left hand, her fingers virtually a blur as she worked while Takeda kept a close watch, pistols at the ready.

_CLICK!_

"Got it," Minamoto responded, as the door unlocked and opened with a mechanical hiss.

"G-Corp. tech, gotta love it," the ninja remarked. Holding his guns close to his chest, Takeda scrambled to his feet and entered the room.

"Wait!" Minamoto warned.

Takeda immediately stopped in his tracks. Good thing for him, as the blue haired ninja was mere inches from running smack into a moving net of red lasers.

"Uh… so… was that part of the floor plan?" he asked gingerly.

"Yes, that was part of the floor plan," Minamoto said.

"Oh, well that shouldn't be too difficult," Takeda chirped happily. "All we need to do is use our card and…" he stopped in midsentence as he pulled out the key card from his belt… or at least what was left of it. "Well, at least we still have yours – "

"We need _two_ cards to pass through…"

Silence…

"Huh… well **** me," the ninja said.

* * *

"I hope you don't intend to rush into that thing like you did before," Alpha 2 chided.

Lars stared warily at the massive 'pool' of blue energy covering the room to the next door.

"This time, it's fatal," Alpha 2 added with emphasis.

"Yes, I get it," the Swede groaned. Lars brushed back his brown locks with a swipe of his hand and scratched the back of his head. "At the risk of stating the obvious, since this is part of the floor plan, we should have a way to disable this, correct?"

"Uh… yes, and no… sir…" one of his men answered nervously.

All eyes turned towards the soldier with disbelieving glances.

"Soldier…" Alpha 2 began. "What do you mean yes and no?"

The soldier cleared his throat. "Well… with the access cards we received, if we hold it up towards the sensor over there," he pointed towards an 'eye' just above the door, "we could easily pass through this field without any harm whatsoever."

"That explains the 'yes' part," Lars rubbed his chin. "What about the 'no' part?"

"The problem is… well, sir… we won't be able to get everyone through to the door."

Lars clenched his teeth at the soldier's answer.

"Don't keep us in suspense here," Alpha 2 said. "Why not?"

"The security is designed specifically to allow only one person at a time to walk through the field and enter the room, sir. Well…"

"Don't tell me…" Alpha 2 sighed.

"We only have three cards."

The Swede looked at the rest of his team. "And there's seven of us," he stated. The soldier nodded apprehensively.

* * *

"Any ideas?" Takeda asked.

Minamoto momentarily slid her mask over her head and stared at the dizzying array of bright crimson dancing through the hall.

"If you had not damaged the card while pulling that stunt," the red haired woman said through gritted teeth, "we'd be able to shut down the grid and simply walk to the door instead."

"Oh, now come on!" Takeda waved his hands. "You would've taken an hour to get through that… that… lightning… thing!"

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't have found an alternative!" she spat, then pointed vehemently to the computer on her wrist. "I had a plan to get through that measure with minimal delay and harm, yet you had to act like a Neanderthal and… and… _ruin_ everything!"

The blue haired man blinked.

"What!" the kunoichi shrieked. She could feel the months of stress reach its limit.

"I forget how hot you look when pissed off."

Now it was Minamoto's turn to blink.

"I wonder what you look like in body paint," Takeda added with a giggle.

Five… four… three… two… one…

"Lecherous… pervert!" Minamoto snapped, leaping onto the ninja and squeezing his neck. "I'll kill you!"

"H-hey, hey, hey!" Takeda choked, nearly falling on his back. "Easy there, woman! Safe word! Safe word!"

That was when an unknown explosion rocked the tower.

* * *

Jack stood on the roof of the tower with arms folded, watching as the helicopters rained death at a fast moving object zipping quickly towards headquarters.

"Kiyaaaaaah!" the 'object' shrieked.

Zipping through the night sky, a sight unbelievable even when seen, a diminutive looking young girl sporting… or rather _sprouting_ a set of wing-like projections on her back desperately avoided her pursuers' gunfire, pink tresses fluttering violently in the wind. Blue plumes of flame propel the woman in the air, her appearance like an innocent, delicate little fairy…

…until a pair of long chainsaws also sprouted from her forearms.

"I… I do not want to hurt you," she said softly to the helicopters zeroing in on her. The chainsaws revved as the pure, innocent look was replaced by a fierce expression of determination. "But… I will fight back if I must! So please… I beg you…"

Her plea was interrupted by another volley of gun fire from the helicopters. Without uttering another word, the young woman zipped towards her pursuers, dodging the shower of lead using her small frame and greater agility to her advantage, and dipped low just beneath the first chopper. With a loud cry, she shot herself upwards towards the rear and, in one smooth motion, cut off its tail. The chopper spun and flailed out of control, hurtling towards the ground as the girl made her way towards the second chopper. Again, dodging the shower of lead, the girl managed to avoid the chopper's attack with her superior agility, and managed to hover to the side of the vehicle and away from the machinegun's sights. And again, with a single, smooth chop, she sliced off the tail of the second chopper. The occupants of both choppers somehow managed to jump out of their crippled vehicles, avoiding the large spinning blades, and parachuted towards the rooftops of the surrounding high rises much to the relief of the girl.

As for the helicopters themselves, the first ended up crashing to the streets below, kicking up metal and asphalt in its wake before being engulfed in red flames. The second chopper scraped the side of a nearby high rise building, breaking off bits of concrete in its descent, and, snapping through power lines, plowed through some power plants and tumbling towards Soleil's main headquarters.

"Oh no," the girl gasped.

At the last moment, Jack finally intervened, standing between the building and the helicopter with his arms stretched out. The chopper collided with the android, crumpled against his hands upon impact, and pushing the giant backwards through its momentum. The helicopter exploded, sending charred scrap and debris flying from the circle of the blast. Nearby cars were destroyed and large pieces of hot metal managed to hit the side of Soleil's looming tower. Then, from within the charred rubble, Jack slowly walked away from the fiery rubble, pushing the pieces of wreckage away as though they were mere refuse. The giant turned his head skywards, his eyes blazing red as he set his sights on the flying girl above.

"Jack…" the woman muttered.

(Alisa Bosconovitch…) Jack responded as the rivets along his arms opened, and missiles locked onto the girl.

* * *

The bluish 'pool' suddenly faded, along with the lights in the room.

"Looks like someone solved our little dilemma," Lars mused.

"I just hope our luck holds out," Alpha 2 replied.

"I couldn't agree more," the Swede answered back. With a gesture of the hand, the rest of the Specials trudged towards the door, and, after some careful prying, made their way into the next room.

* * *

"Uh… Minamoto?"

"Shut up!" the kunoichi shrieked, her hands still wrapped around the ninja's neck.

"Look…" Takeda gasped, pointing towards the room.

No more lasers.

The kunoichi stared blankly at the room, mystified by the sudden turn of events. Her hands gradually loosened their grip, allowing the blue haired ninja some much needed breath.

"So…" Takeda cleared his throat. "Hot as it may look… do you mind?"

Confused, Minamoto averted her eyes back at her obnoxious partner… and realized that she was straddling him the whole time.

"Ugh!" she leapt off the man, disturbed at the audacity of the man –

"And before you say anything else, you were the one who jumped," Takeda reminded her, flashing an evil grin under his mask.

In a huff of frustration, Minamoto glared at the ninja, and chose not to say a word on the subject for the rest of the night.

"Not like I object the offer! When we are done, you want to do this in the bedroom instead? Yes? No? Maybe? Hello?"

…no matter how much he may badger her on the topic.

"Hello?"

* * *

Alisa let out a yelp as she barely avoided a second barrage of missiles locked on to her. The small projectiles exploded behind her, the blast causing the purple haired gynoid to waver in midair.

Closing the launchers on his massive arms, Jack activated his jets under the soles of his feet, and propelled himself to the air to face his robotic counterpart in the sky. Pointing his right arm at the gynoid, the barrels of his gatling gun popped out from his forearm as the mechanical giant took aim at his target.

"Jack?" Alisa whispered.

The mammoth war machine opened fire, spraying multiple bursts of bullets at the lithe woman's direction. Pivoting her body to the side, she made an arc to her left and ascended away from the line of fire, barely avoiding Jack's aim as she flew. The android continued to track the woman with his right arm, his gatling gun spewing a seemingly never-ending stream of lead while giving chase. In spite of his towering size compared to the girl, Jack managed to keep up with Alisa and her speed, anticipating and reacting to the gynoid's movements.

Desperate to shake him off, Alisa continued to lead the android in the chase, drawing the droid's fire as close as possible. Suddenly, she swerved to her left, causing the giant to overshoot his target.

"Haah!" Alisa cried out, raising her right arm at Jack with clenched fist, and fired a projectile at the android. More precisely, the whole of her right forearm.

Jack turned his head and watched as a fist 'rocketed' towards him like a missile.

_CLUNK!_

The giant managed to raise his left hand to block the 'rocket punch' with an open palm. In spite of his strength, however, the punch hurtled him back, nearly sending the droid spiraling out of control. Straining against the momentum, the droid steadied himself against the limb, powering his jets to counter the 'rocket punch's' afterburner. With a mighty swing, Jack swung the detached forearm away spinning to the side.

_CRUNCH!_

That was when Alisa took advantage of his vulnerability and rammed herself against the mechanical titan. In spite of her small size compared to the eight foot android, the gynoid was very strong. Spinning out of control, this time, Jack was unable to stabilize himself as he went crashing through the side of a building.

Pink hair fluttering, Alisa flew towards the building and hovered in front of the hole. Emerald green eyes glowing, the gynoid scanned the rubble for signs of the android while making sure no other bystander got hurt from the impact. She let her guard down for but a split second, but that was all the time needed for Jack to extend his already preposterously massive arm out and pluck her from the air.

"Kiyah!" she screamed.

The arm retracted back with a sudden jolt. Gasping, Alisa blinked twice, and found her green eyes gazing into a pair of matching red eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" she pleaded with a hint of sadness to her tone.

Jack did not give an answer, though the expression on his face was solemn.

(I'm sorry…)

* * *

"How much further?" Lars asked while running through the maze of corridors.

"We are almost to the rendezvous point," Alpha 2 replied following shoulder to shoulder. "It is just that last room to the left a few meters from here."

"Hopefully we haven't kept Raven waiting too long," Lars said to himself.

With Lars leading the way, the men cautiously yet hastily went onward, their boots leaving quiet echoes against the white metallic surface. Turning left as per directions, the soldiers continued down the long hallway until they reached a rather plain, unassuming door.

"This is it," Alpha 2 said. "Through this door will be the entrance to the Southwest corridor of the labs."

Lars nodded. "Open it."

"Yes, sir."

Sliding the key card over the slot and punching in a combination of numbers on the keypad with assistance of his portable terminal, Alpha 2 managed to unlock the door with ease. The door slid open with a quiet hiss, and the men entered into a large, empty space of fluorescent greens and dull whites with a narrow hallway that branched into yet another maze of corridors.

"Ladies and gents, welcome to the Southwest wing, level 2," Alpha 2 declared to the rest of the team. "If we follow this route here," he added while pointing at a location on the map, "we should reach our destination and grab what we're looking for. The wards on the keycards should keep the security in check."

"With any luck, hopefully it should be smooth sailing then," Lars said.

_CLICK!_

Reflexively, the soldiers raised their weapons at the source of the sound.

"You're not Raven," Lars remarked.

"You're not Son Goku," Takeda answered with Berettas pointed at the leader.

Lars quickly replied with a sway of his head followed by a punch with his right hand. Takeda deftly blocked the punch with pistol in his palm and spun around to deliver a backhand with the butt of his weapon. Lars raised his arm to block Takeda's blow by the forearm and delivered a knee aimed at the midsection. The blue haired ninja responded with a back flip and knelt low to the ground. The fight would have likely went on had it not been for the sound of machineguns suddenly aimed at the ninja's head.

"Who the hell are you!" Alpha 2 demanded, his crosshair set on the ninja. That threat didn't last too long as he felt his body being pulled back and a nimble hand wrapped dangerously around his neck.

"I should ask the same of you," Minamoto hissed, threatening the soldier with her knife. All guns suddenly cocked and pointed at the second intruder while the blue haired ninja used their moment of distraction to flip next to his partner out of harm's way. Lars' jaw tightened as both soldiers and ninjas watched each other warily in a standoff…

"Minamoto, let him go," Takeda suddenly spoke up, retracting his helmet and revealing his face.

"What are you doing!" the kunoichi gawked.

"I said, let him go," the ninja repeated firmly.

"Have you gone insane – "

"They are not Soleil's uniforms," he pointed out. "And call me crazy (which you do anyways), but given they are lead by a super saiyajin here – "

"What did you just call me?" Lars snapped.

" – I can't help but think they are on the same side as us… sort of."

Minamoto was about to raise her voice in protest, until she took a closer look at the Swedish 'super saiyajin'. She looked at the soldiers pointing their weapons at her then looked at the Swede again.

"Don't make the big monkey angry," Takeda whispered. Lars with his sharp hearing furrowed his brow at the remark, but said nothing.

Relenting, the red haired kunoichi released her hold on the soldier and lightly shoved him back to his men. Alpha 2 coughed, rubbing his neck with both hands while thankful to be alive. The rest of the men stood between Alpha 2 and the ninjas with fingers on the trigger.

"Lower your weapons," Lars ordered his men. Obediently, the soldiers lowered their guns, albeit cautiously.

"Lars Alexandersson," Takeda said, twirling his pistols. "I've heard many things of you."

The Swede cocked his head to the side. "Hopefully positive. And who are you?"

"Takeda," the ninja answered. "Partner over there is Minamoto," he gestured to the kunoichi. "We're Manji."

"Manji, huh?" Lars mused. "Explains some of your moves."

"You're not so bad yourself," Takeda admitted.

"And why are we suddenly acting so friendly?" Alpha 2 grunted, his neck still sore from the choke hold Minamoto placed on him.

"Because, as Takeda said, I believe we are on the same side," Lars simply replied.

"Because he says he is Manji or something?"

"Especially because they are Manji." The Swede turned to the blue haired ninja and continued, "I've had the honor of meeting some of your kin. I've fought with and against your master on several occasions. Yoshimitsu was a great ninja to your clan, and an honorable man to all. I am sorry for your loss."

"Ah… so you heard," Takeda sadly replied. "Our master talks much gibberish, but he does think highly of you as well. So, yes, the stories I've heard were definitely positive. Most of the time anyways."

"So I take it you are heading to the labs yourself."

"Level Omega, Order…"

"717," Lars completed the sentence.

Takeda chuckled. "So you are just as suicidal as we are. How cute."

"As much as I would like to continue with this reunion, we have a mission to complete," a husky voice announced his presence.

Everyone was startled by the voice, Minamoto in particular dropping to her fighting stance in response. Lars, on the other hand, smirked, while Takeda stared nonchalantly at the new intruder behind the shadows.

"I like what you did to your hair," Takeda remarked.

"You are late," the Swede said.

"Ran into some traffic," Raven replied stoically, ignoring the blue haired ninja's comment while walking towards the group from his hiding spot.

Lars noted the tattered outfit and dried blood on the agent's skin. "That is an understatement. What happened?"

"Soleil got a jump on us," Raven explained. "Long story short, I managed to escape while taking most of their men with me, but it means time is that much shorter."

"Then we have no time to waste," Lars said. "Let's move!"

* * *

The elevator ride to the underground labs was a long, uneventful affair, though everyone remained on guard. Once the elevator arrived at its destination, the soldiers carefully exited the lift with weapons drawn, while Lars, Takeda, Raven, and Minamoto followed behind.

"All clear."

Takeda scratched the back of his neck. "This is a little too quiet for my tastes," he said.

"Agreed," Minamoto responded, holding her knife close. "Something does not feel right."

"Indeed," Lars nodded. "With the exception of some security measures and a few guards, we've had little to no resistance whatsoever. I hate to state the obvious, but we are definitely walking into a trap."

"What do we do?" Alpha 2 asked.

"Not much at the moment, save we keep going," Lars answered without hesitation. "We came this far, we might as well see this to the end."

"I couldn't agree more," Raven scowled and marched forward.

"Wait a minute," Minamoto spoke up. "If it is indeed a trap, we can't just march in there without a plan."

"I suppose the world is imploding on itself, but I agree," Takeda nodded. "As much as I enjoy a little gun-toting action, I'm not in the mood to walk into an ambush, especially if it involves those… weird… men… creatures in white. Way too freakish for my tastes."

Lars rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I wouldn't mind some suggestions."

"And under normal circumstances, I wouldn't mind either, but time is also not on our side," Raven objected. "If someone has ideas, let's hear it now. Otherwise, we need to move."

"And I like speed," Takeda said. "Correction, I _love_ speed. Gives you that nice, tingly feeling in your stomach. What I don't like is getting shot or stabbed. Gives you that sharp, torturous feeling in whatever body part that got shot or stabbed."

"While not the most eloquent choice of words," Minamoto said, "I happen to agree with my… partner."

"Unfortunately, again, time is not on our side," Raven insisted, taking another step forward. "We move, or we lose our opportunity to – "

"Honestly, what is your rush?" Takeda glared at the agent.

"Yes, Raven," Lars said, stepping towards the dark skinned agent. "Why are you in a rush?" The Swede leaned his head slightly.

"I do not wish to repeat myself," Raven insisted.

"This isn't like you at all," Lars said. "You seem a little agitated." The Swede paused. "What's wrong with you?"

Raven looked over his shoulder. "Nothing that would be any of your concern," he simply stated.

Lars wanted to answer when a small, blinking light from his wrist caught his attention. "Excuse me for a moment," he said, turning away from the group and knelt down. Flipping open his gauntlet, he thumbed the transmitter in his ear and quietly whispered, "You're here, aren't you?"

(Lars…) Alisa's voice crackled through his earpiece.

The Swede clenched his fists hard, clearly agitated. "I thought I told you to stay put!" he whispered angrily.

(I… I am sorry… Lars…) Alisa answered weakly.

The Swede was worried. "Where are you? Why do you sound like that?"

(I… must warn you…)

"Are you in trouble?" he asked, his tone showing deep concern.

(Warn… you… about…)

"What happened! Where are you!"

(They… got to him…)

"What – got to, you're not making any sense!"

(Raven…)

The Swede fell silent.

(Soleil… got to… Raven… he… is not… himself…)

The transmission ended. Clenching his fists, Lars slowly stood back on his feet and walked towards the agent.

"My apologies," Lars said. "I was momentarily occupied. Where was I…"

Raven didn't say anything.

"The Raven I know is typically more thoughtful, more logical in his approach, never one to merely rush headlong into something unknown, especially if it is a trap such as what we are likely walking into. You wouldn't be insisting to head into the labs, unless…"

With a gesture of his eyes, the men suddenly pointed their weapons at the dark skinned ninja.

"Unless you're not really Raven, are you?"

The agent turned to face his accusers. "So she told you."

"Where is Alisa?" Lars growled. "What did Soleil do to her!"

"I would worry less about the girl," Raven replied and, raising his hands slowly to the air, waggled his finger on his right. On that signal, Lars' Specials suddenly fell one by one as an old man in gray robes suddenly appeared and attacked the group.

Qiquiang.

"And worry more about yourselves," Raven completed his sentence.

Lars raised his fist to attack the agent only for something to hold him back.

Black Jack.

"****!" Takeda swore under his breath, as a small group of marionettes converged on their location and scattered the team. Takeda leapt into the air, his body spinning like a corkscrew, and, holding his pistols with his arms crossed, unleashed a hail of bullets at the robed men. Surprisingly accurate, the blue haired ninja managed to land all his shots squarely, the force of the bullets knocking the marionettes to their backs.

"Takeda!" Minamoto shouted, rolling on the ground, and leapt forward with knife held forward, drilling a marionette that was about to attack her partner.

Meanwhile, Lars found himself fighting on the defensive as both Jack and Raven attacked the Swede at once. Just when he thought he found an opening against one, the other would come in to assist his partner and thwart his efforts. He would match the android's strength and use his smaller size to get within Jack's range to counter, yet Raven would intervene and knock him away. Lars would hold up against the ninja in black, countering his blows with several of his own, only for Jack to suddenly step in and push him back with his titanic strength.

Alpha 2 was simply outclassed in his case, as Qiquiang used his superior speed to avoid the soldier's sights, then rush in and begin to beat him into submission. The rest of the soldiers had long been knocked down, a complete non-factor in the chaos.

"Minamoto!" Takeda called out, blocking an arm with his pistols crossed over his head. "Get to the labs! We'll hold them back!"

The red haired kunoichi made a slashing move with her knife, managing to scrape through cloth, but nothing more. "Are you sure! There are too many of them!"

"We have no – " Takeda was interrupted by a right hand wrapped around his throat.

"We meet again, Manji *****."

The blue haired ninja felt his body lifted into the air, and flung hard against the wall. Shaking the haze, Takeda looked up at this new intruder, and suddenly felt his blood boil at the sight before him. Silver hair cropped short. Tattoo on the neck. Scars running over the left eye and on his muscular chest.

Bryan Fury.

Takeda raised his pistols to shoot, but was quickly knocked away by the sheer force of the cyborg's strength.

"Minamoto!" Takeda cried out hoarsely. "Move!"

Minamoto didn't listen at first, attempting to fight through three marionettes standing between her and Takeda, but to no avail.

"Now!" Takeda shouted.

Those were the last words Takeda said to her before Bryan kicked the blue haired ninja away. Clenching her knife, Minamoto forced herself to turn away from her allies, and ran off towards her destination.

* * *

Watching the events unfold from his office, Heihachi quietly took a sip of his tea and inclined against his chair.

"I believe this is a perfect opportunity for a little field test, wouldn't you say, Dr. Romov?" he grinned.

"Of course, master," the scientist replied with a small hint of enthusiasm in her voice. Adjusting the spectacles on her face, she walked towards a terminal on the desk, and began punching in a code on the keyboard.

* * *

The red haired kunoichi somehow managed to lose her pursuers and made it to the heart of the laboratory. Using the keycard and the terminal on her wrist, she hurriedly unlocked the security on the door, and bolted through the lab…

…and nearly did a double take at the sight before her as rows upon rows of giant tanks filled with bodies filled the room. Not just any bodies… bodies of the missing people.

Including the fighters.

Tapping her mask with her index finger, she began to record her findings, scanning the room carefully while searching the lab for a terminal. Finally, within the grisly display of preserved bodies, Minamoto ran towards one of the several computer terminals in the lab and, inserting a disc into the slot, began to upload the data on Soleil's experiments…

_SWISH!_

Minamoto tossed a kunai and was surprised to see it caught so easily.

"Who's there!" she demanded.

The kunoichi suddenly felt a dull, sickening feeling in her stomach as a pale woman in a purple, loose-fitting kimono walked listlessly towards her. The kimono covered her left shoulder, while the right was exposed, revealing a black mark branded onto the arm. A small set of beads wrapped around her slender right ankle, rattling with every step she took in her bare feet. Black fringes partially covered the pale woman's forehead, as a pair of golden orbs set their gaze at the kunoichi… through her, and into her.

"You…" Minamoto rasped.

Hanako Yamada.


	23. Stage 22

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 22_

The world around Alisa flickered back to life. Visually, it looked hazy in appearance, and the colors lacked a bit of blue in the spectrum, suggesting some malfunction in her ocular devices, but at least she could see again.

Look for the positive side of things…

Those were some of the words burned into her memory and often repeated to her by not just Lars, but also her creator and father, Dr. Geppetto Bosconovitch.

Subject… Bosconovitch, Geppetto… former scientist of the Mishima Zaibatsu…

Her father more than anything taught her the value of having an optimistic outlook, even when things seem rough. In spite of his frailty, Dr. Bosconovitch seemed unusually optimistic even when things weren't going his way. It would certainly explain why he continued his research within the field of science, be it robotics, genetics, cryogenics, _anything_, even when everyone else told him his daughter, the real Alisa Bosconovitch, was a lost cause…

The gynoid lifted herself back to her feet. That was when she noticed she no longer had any feet. In fact, she her lower left leg was gone from the knee down, while the left leg was completely torn off. On top of that, she was also missing a left arm.

So much for getting back on her feet… Look for the positive side of things, she repeated to herself.

Alisa ran a quick diagnostic of her systems. Power levels had dipped to 53 percent and declining. Outer chassis had been compromised, with integrity at approximately 42 percent. Thrusters on her back, torn and twisted, were completely inoperable. Her communicator barely worked after her scuffle with the android, Jack, though perhaps it had more to do with the area she was in than anything. To top things off… her dress had been ruined… and the flower on her head went missing.

Things definitely looked rough for her at the moment…

The gynoid struggled to sit up and began scanning the area. The readouts sputtered and gurgled, showing mostly static and nonsensical gibberish. Alisa smacked the side of her head with her right hand. Her scanners no longer sputtered and the readouts were back to nominal.

Look for the positive side of things.

Scanning… The area she was left in looked mostly derelict. As far as she could tell, she was placed in a dump filled with garbage and rusted machinery. Based on her olfactory senses… it stank. No other description was needed. If the gynoid wasn't so heavily damaged, she would fly the heck out of this mess, have her clothes washed, and her artificial skin disinfected. It was the least of her worries, as she struggled to pull herself forward with her right hand. As she slowly crawled her way along the cold, hard ground, she passed by a reflection on a puddle, and almost gasped in horror over the tattered mess her hair was in…

Alisa stopped and wondered to herself, when did she become so… for lack of a better word… shallow? It was yet another part of her evolution from machine to human being, she supposed, though the change in her behavior was embarrassing.

Scanning… scanning…

_Bzzzztt!_

_WHACK!_

The gynoid gave her head another good thump.

Scanning… scanning…

The pink haired girl barely recalled the recent events that got her into this mess in the first place. Processing those memories, Alisa remembered seeing a burning house… a large house of sorts that held some special meaning… and Lars looking visibly shaken. Alisa had seen him upset before, but this was the most miserable she had ever seen him. Gradually, he became more distant towards her… colder… aloof… and then she saw him with an envelope… and he said something about needing to do this on his own, whatever 'it' is, thus she needed to stay put… then she saw some of the old team together… and then… and then…

Fumbling around absentmindedly, Alisa's hand slipped on an object, nearly causing her to stumble sideways. Curious, she careened her head over to take a better look at what was in her hand. A forearm… more importantly, _her_ forearm. The gynoid carefully picked it up and examined the limb. Damaged rockets, some exposed circuitry, and a bit of dirt and grime, but otherwise it looked functional enough. Plugging the forearm back to the socket of her left elbow, she ran some quick diagnostics to determine the extent of the damage. As expected, no more rocket assisted punches, and use of the chainsaw was out of the question. On the other hand, she could still wiggle her fingers… though the limb felt weak, but at least Alisa regained use of both arms. As such, crawling had become much easier… though walking would be much easier… so would flight…

Look for the positive side of things, she reminded herself yet again.

Anyways… scanning… scanning…

Jack…

Subject… Combat Soldier Unit GCXJ-0079X Black Jack… one time command droid for G-Corporation's android army, specifically the Jack Army…

One moment, they fought in a tower, the next, to the streets below while said tower plummeted to the ground… then things become a little confusing…

Their battle had been a hard fought one, physically for Alisa, and emotionally for Jack, that much she recalled for certain. She could see it in his face… he obviously did not want to fight her, yet something made him continue his aggression… and though not really programmed into his design, whatever duties he was assigned, he was not allowed to perform anything beyond a hundred percent.

Thus the fight continued off the streets and into a part of Soleil's headquarters… where she felt herself crashing through the tough, reinforced titanium walls… and there was the loud, raucous noise of gun fire from a pair of gatling guns… many of them piercing her skin, rupturing her circuits… shooting off her arm… her right leg crushed under his strength… her left leg ripped like wings off a fly… and the constant blows on her body… over, and over, and over, and over, and –

"AHHHH!" Alisa screamed and collapsed to the ground.

All the gynoid wanted to do was help. She never wanted to be a burden, especially after the events of the past week. She never meant to get in the way, and now… if deities do really exist, now she was being punished. Alisa sobbed to herself (or at least simulate something extremely close to sobbing, given she doesn't have any tear ducts) and hugged herself tightly. And Lars… he must be angry at her for not obeying his orders… following his team around only to get herself into trouble…

Focus… focus! Look for the positive side of things…

She did recall sending out a message to Lars moments before she was temporarily shut down. More specifically, a warning about Raven, and what Soleil did to him moments ago… Alisa stared at her hands blankly. She hoped that her warning had gotten through… and hoped that Lars and the rest of the team would make it out alive…

* * *

Lars felt the slice of cold, unfettered metal pierce through his abdomen as Raven slashed hard with his right. The Swede was quick enough to avoid having his internals spill from his midsection, receiving only a superficial wound, but was not quick enough to avoid a giant right fist to the whole of his upper body, courtesy of the combat droid, Jack.

_THUNK!_

"Ugh!"

Blood flew out of his mouth in a single heave as the android slammed the Swede hard to the ground. Lars quickly rolled to the side as Jack leapt to the air to deliver a sit down splash. The android barely missed, though the Swede (and everyone within the vicinity for that matter) felt the ground tremble before his weight.

As Lars rolled back to his feet, Raven suddenly appeared in mid air with right leg aiming for the Swede's collarbone. Instinctively, Lars hopped away, the agent landing hard on the cold, metallic floor. Seizing the opportunity, Lars stepped forward and attacked, stretching out his left arm for a quick jab. Raven swayed his head back to avoid the first blow, then hopped back to avoid a hard spinning right hand. Lars followed his offence with a quick dash and a hard right hand, then fully extending his left arm into an uppercut, managing to break through the ninja's defenses. At the right moment, Jack stepped in between the men and raised his forearm to block the Swede's lunging strike.

"Tch!"

The Swede had to commend the two for their teamwork as android and ninja worked well enough to grind any momentum he had going to a halt. Now, Lars was back on the defensive as Jack swung his arms in a succession of lumbering, yet powerful punches. The Swede timed the android's attacks carefully, counting the number of punches thrown while taking care to block each one, then, on the fifth blow, the Swede sprung off the droid's fist and kicked him in the side of the face. Jack reeled from the hard blow, stumbling back on his feet though still able to maintain his balance.

Lars took one short step forward when Raven suddenly appeared and rushed in with a combination of lefts and rights. The Swede was better prepared for this as he quickly blocked the first three punches, then parried the ninja's kick. Spinning counter-clockwise, Lars dashed forward to deliver a solid uppercut to Raven's chin, sending the man off his feet. He then quickly followed the attack by catching the agent by the leg, and slammed him back to the ground with all his might. His offensive, however, was short lived as Jack recovered much faster than the Swede anticipated and snatched Lars by the arm. Lifting the man off his feet, the android wound his right arm back and delivered an overhead blow, sending Lars bouncing and skidding along the ground.

"Oof!"

More blood trickled from his lips as Lars felt the wind knocked out of him. Unfortunately, he wasn't allowed a reprieve as Raven also recovered quickly and, springing past the android, slammed his heel on the Swede's chest. Lars was thankful for having a chest protector as, Mishima blood or not, he was certain he would have received a couple of cracked ribs, though it did nothing else for the pain he felt. Raven twirled the sword in his hand and was about to jab the blade straight into the Swede's throat when a gunshot rang from behind, which the ninja instinctively deflected with his other sword.

"Damn!" Takeda spat, the barrel of his Beretta smoking.

It was all Lars needed to spring his legs back and push himself off the ground with a kip-up, knocking Raven and Jack simultaneously.

"Thank you," Lars said.

"Don't… mention it…" Takeda gurgled with hands wrapped around his neck, as Bryan slowly squeezed the life out of him.

"Attention away from Mishima-lite, eyes on me, punk!" Bryan sneered, lifting the blue haired man off his feet and tossing him away like a rag doll. Takeda turned his head away in revulsion as he stumbled to get his bearings back.

_Like I have a ******* choice!_

The blue haired ninja pointed his pistols at the cyborg's head and fired. With inhuman speed, Bryan snapped his head to the side to dodge the bullet, and smiled back menacingly.

"Brush your teeth, man," Takeda scrunched his face, and fired several more shots. Incredulously, the cyborg also managed to dodge them all with quick movements of his head. Sick and tired of missing the mark, Takeda fired two simultaneous shots from both pistols. As expected, Bryan moved his head to avoid both bullets. With precise timing and anticipation, Takeda let out a third and fourth. The third bullet, Bryan swayed to the side, and the fourth…

_POW!_

Bryan's head jerked back as the bullet managed to hit him squarely in the face…

"Yes!" the blue haired man pumped his fist in triumph.

…or so he thought, as Bryan slowly lifted his head back and stared straight into Takeda's face with bullet casing between his teeth. Takeda shook his head and raised his arms in frustration.

"You know, I've stopped being surprised by moves like that," Takeda said. "Doesn't mean I still don't get upset, but, you know, I've otherwise become quite numb to all this."

Spitting the casing from his mouth, the cyborg quickened his pace and closed the distance between the two while Takeda slowly stepped back with pistols drawn and fired… or would have fired if not for the fact that his Berettas were out of ammunition.

"You are ******** me…"

"Mwahahahahaha…"

"And for the love of Buddha and all manner of gods and idols, could you please stop laughing like that! You're scaring the kittens!"

Bryan, of course, didn't care what the ninja had to say. All that mattered at the moment was to pound the living daylights out of the Manji agent as he swept his arm high with a left fist aimed for the head. Takeda, surprised by the speed of the punch, lifted his arms to block.

_CRACK!_

Takeda felt himself skid backwards from the impact of the punch.

_WHOOSH! POW!_

…which was exasperated more as Bryan followed the initial blow with a backhand with the left arm.

_CRUNCH!_

Takeda's defenses crumbled as Bryan delivered an uppercut with his right hand. The ninja could barely keep up with the cyborg as Bryan then proceeded to push him back with a combination of punches.

_WHACK!_

In one spin, Bryan managed to connect with a roundhouse kick, sending the ninja toppling backwards against a wall. Takeda groaned, thankful for the armor protecting him, though a part of him wondered how even his master managed to face up to a brute like the man nicknamed 'Snake Eyes' even with enhancements…

Wonderment ceased very quickly as Bryan loomed over the Manji ninja as the cyborg prepared to pummel Takeda until he turned into paste.

_POW!_

Quick reflexes saved the blue haired man as he spun (literally) against the wall with arms crossed, allowing Bryan's fist to sail just mere inches from his stomach and into thick titanium. Angrily, the cyborg adjusted his steps and lifted his left leg for a quick knee to the gut…

…only for his now vulnerable limb to be in the direct line of the butt of Takeda's pistol.

_CRACK!_

Bryan jumped back, recoiling from the shockingly strong blow as Takeda took advantage of this opportunity to further injure his opponent via swinging his pistols like a pair of clubs and connected both weapons to the side of the cyborg's head. Bryan had to admit, those hits packed far more punch than he expected as he toppled on his side. Takeda began to approach his opponent, unleashing a combination of lefts and right with pistols in hand. The cyborg's head snapped from each impact, the world around him filled with the sight of metal…

_CRUNCH!_

And any further moves Takeda might have had in mind, however, they were interrupted by a sudden kick to the face. Dazed, the blue haired man discovered the source of the attack.

"Oh… I forgot about you," Takeda moaned as Qiquiang stood above him. Huddling next to the monk, the marionettes hovered ominously ("Oh yeah… forgot about you, too"), holy white light flaring from their eyes…

"Hey!" Bryan snapped. The monk turned his head to the angry cyborg with a twinkle in his eyes. "Since you're done with those red shirts, help the tin man and Wesley Snipes over there, or go wax your bald head, but the Manji punk is mine! Got it!"

For a brief moment, the monk's serene expression seemed to crack at the cyborg's comment. A very brief moment, perhaps, but nevertheless a moment. Bryan felt a small sense of satisfaction at his 'accomplishment', which lasted for all of two seconds as he glared menacingly at the old man.

The monk smiled and politely bowed his head as he graciously stepped away from Takeda.

"And keep those wooden puppets away while you're at it!"

Qiquiang merely smiled as he gestured to the marionettes to keep away from Bryan and Takeda.

"Sweet," Takeda mumbled, rubbing his jaw with his wrist. "I get the zombie man all to myself. How wonderful…" Still cautious of monk and marionette alike, the blue haired man dusted himself off and, stepping into his fighting stance, beckoned Bryan with his left hand. "Come and get some," he snarled.

Bryan was simply all too happy to oblige as he approached the Manji ninja full sprint.

* * *

Alisa can still sprout a new head!

That was the latest discovery the gynoid had while scanning the room and fumbling her way through the darkness. It came about by accident when she hit her head hard against a low hanging beam, causing her head to fall off, thus her memory suddenly kicked in. She couldn't believe she had forgotten about this ability and quickly ran diagnostics on her systems…

…and voila! A brand new head, and shiny new hair! Clean, perfectly brushed, and well groomed hair, though the flower remained missing. But, really, unblemished skin and sparkling new hair!

Positive things were finally happening!

Now, to continue her search for… something… to get her out of this dump…

_Bzzzt!_

_WHACK!_

Alisa smacked the side of her newly sprouted, smooth, mostly unblemished head. These momentary lapses in power would prove to be quite a nuisance if she didn't do something…

"Recalibrating systems… rerouting power… shut down sequence initiated…"

The pink haired girl was frozen like a statue as she quickly made the necessary adjustments to her systems.

A minute passed…

(System Restart…)

…her green eyes lit up, signaling the completion of her modifications. Alisa ran diagnostics… The power fluctuations seemed to have subsided, though the gynoid was still not out of the woods just yet. For instance, after all this time, she still hadn't found something that could help her escape these –

…she found a piece of cable! A very _long_ piece of cable! The cable could be very useful… along with a set of rusted wheels… a bike seat… rusted gears… a pillow case… girders… a tin can with green ooze… a whoopee cushion… and some other pieces of electronics left to rot. Checking her power levels, diagnostics indicated 40 percent, and still declining. Communicator reception at thirteen percent.

Positive thinking, positive thinking, positive thinking…

Alisa looked over the items she had in hand. The gynoid had some kind of idea in mind with several of those objects, though she felt a little embarrassed at the plans that came to her head. She looked up and noted the height she had to reach…

Alisa needed to act fast.

Taking the objects she could get, she began to cobble up… something… that could alleviate her lack of locomotion… and something that could lift her out of this dump.

* * *

Minamoto felt herself snap in two as her body flew and managed to create a large dent on a pipe with her spine. Cold and emotionless, Hanako slowly ambled towards her new plaything. The red haired kunoichi shook her head of the cobwebs and blinked…

…and the distance between kunoichi and the pale woman was cut in half! Minamoto blinked again…

…and now she found Hanako to be mere inches away from her! Minamoto told herself not to blink as she slowly lifted herself back on her feet.

_Soleil has gotten that much further with you in just under a week…_ Minamoto thought to herself incredulously. The information she had procured before and what she witnessed now could not be any further apart…

The red haired woman took a quick peek over at the terminal. Thankfully, it hasn't been touched since Hanako appeared, though getting to the data would be another issue altogether.

For instance, there was the issue of trying not to get herself killed. Minamoto was able to avoid Hanako's punch by the slightest of margins, leaping away just before the bulkhead behind her exploded. No sooner did the kunoichi turn around, however, did she suddenly find herself peering directly into the pale woman's golden orbs…

"Oof!"

One hard backhand across the face later, and Minamoto found herself sprawling on the cold ground. The kunoichi tried to crawl back to her hands and knees, but was unable to move forward as she felt a hand clamp down hard around her right ankle. In one flick of the wrist, Hanako threw the woman into the air, sending her hurtling towards one of the cryo-stasis tanks below. With a resounding thunk, Minamoto bounced off the surface of the tank, and toppled over to the ground in a heap.

In spite of its form fitting appearance, the kunoichi's outfit was a sophisticated piece of equipment, a special powered suit of reinforced carbon weaving that was highly flexible for full range of movement yet incredibly durable to protect its wearer in the heat of combat. Further enhancing the wearer, the suit was laced with a sophisticated neuro net along an 'outer spine' to boost the wearer's strength and speed, while also outfitted with weapons and gadgetry such as her mask… and all of that meant nothing against a specimen bred to be a god.

Pity.

Minamoto gasped while Hanako yanked the kunoichi's head up by her hair and dragged her along the cold floor. Minamoto grabbed Hanako's wrist desperately for dear life as the latter flung the kunoichi over her head and slammed her between a pair of cryo-tanks. The red haired woman found herself staring into the face of one of the victims in the tank, nearly recoiling at the sight of the seemingly cold, lifeless body inside. In her mind, she knew the person to still be alive. On the other hand, trapped in such a confining space in a comatose state, as far as Minamoto was concerned, that person in there might as well be dead.

_CRUNCH!_

Hanako lifted her right leg and stomped her foot on the red haired woman, or at least that was the intention as she quickly found her foot blocked by a pair of raised gauntlets. Not a problem, all Hanako needed to do was exert a little more pressure… thus, she did just that.

Wobbling under the weight of her foot, Minamoto poured all her might into her arms, frantically trying to push Hanako off and at least move to a less confining space. As she was quickly reminded, however, all the technology at her disposal wasn't going to be enough against a woman bred to be a god. The kunoichi continued to strain against the pale woman's strength, putting all her might simply to resist getting crushed underneath her foot.

It was the only thing she could do, and she was gradually losing the battle…

* * *

"Mwahahahaha!"

After hearing Bryan's fits of laughter, being grabbed by the abdomen and, lifted into the air, slammed hard to the ground suddenly didn't seem so bad in comparison. It still hurt a lot, but as far as Takeda was concerned, it wasn't half as bad…

…the continuous onslaught of lefts and rights afterwards, on the other hand, might be a very close second.

Lying on the ground in a supine position, Takeda swore under his breath as the cyborg, in a mounting position, threw continuous lefts and rights to his face. Even under the protection of a helmet, the blue haired ninja felt dazed from the constant blows. Takeda attempted to raise his arms to protect his head, though given the beatings he took throughout the fight, his arms felt so heavy that he might as well be lifting lead weights over his face.

_THUNK!_

Takeda's mind barely registered the sudden lack of weight on his body, but registered it did as a black and red 'blur' enveloped in lightning knocked the cyborg away. Shaking the haze out of his eyes, the ninja finally realized what, or who, the blur was that saved him.

"Thanks," Takeda muttered under his breath, regaining some semblance of feeling in his body.

"I owed you one," Lars said, pulling the Manji ninja to his feet.

_

* * *

FWOOSH!_

Alisa's rocket propelled forearm shot straight up towards a thick, overhanging pipe near the gaping hole that was, as far as she recalled in her memory banks, the entrance she made while fighting Jack, and, lopping the cable around, made a steep arc back to the ground.

Picking the forearm up and reattaching it to her arm, she tugged gently at the cable, testing its strength against the pipe. With the easy part of the job done, it was time to climb.

Power level now at 34 percent…

Communicator reception now at twenty two percent.

The gynoid took a quick glance down at her makeshift 'legs', and looked away in embarrassment. Alisa, however, pushed her narcissism aside and took to the task at hand. No time to waste.

"Hmm!" she nodded to herself and began the arduous task of climbing. Attaching a rusted hook wrapped around her waist to the cable, she began using a makeshift winch to lift herself off the ground and pull her upward towards the hole.

So far, so good.

Power level ebbing at 31 percent…

Halfway to the top, the gynoid took a quick peak downward at the ground below. She nearly panicked at the height, especially since she lost her ability to fly.

Power level dropping to 30 percent…

Steeling herself, Alisa turned her head back to the proverbial prize and, pulling at the winch, continued her trek to freedom.

* * *

Just when Minamoto thought her life had ended, Hanako began to hesitate, her expression showing signs of an internal struggle…

"Kch…" Hanako choked.

_Kill her!_

_Leave her be…_

"No, no, no, no, no…"

Clutching her head in pain, Hanako stumbled off of the kunoichi, spun around, and dropped down to her knees breathlessly. Minamoto rolled over to her side, her forearms still numb from all the exertion she placed. Then the kunoichi jerked her head in surprise as an ear-piercing shriek echoed the room.

"_No!_" Hanako screamed, her awareness clouded by the cacophony of voices in her head.

With one swift, graceful move, Minamoto held out her knife and pointed the blade at the struggling woman on the ground. Cautiously, she approached Hanako from behind, feeling lightheaded yet tense at the same time. Looming over Hanako from behind, the kunoichi grabbed the woman by the hair and pulled her head up till the neck was exposed. With Soleil's little pet project in such a vulnerable state, this was the opportunity to rid her of a major obstacle to her mission, and perhaps save the world from yet another monster unleashed. It would be very simple.

All she would have to do is take the knife, and slit her across the throat…

* * *

"Eek!" Alisa screeched.

It was much worse than she thought. In the cover of darkness, her appearance looked very awful to begin with. In an area with added illumination, she looked hideous. Never mind that her outfit was ruined, that she was covered in soot, that she was missing her legs, and the fact that she bolted herself onto a twisted, filthy wheelchair… bicycle… go-kart… skateboard… roller… bulldozer… contraption… thing… no one could decide precisely what that 'thing' was, other than it was made from all manner of metal and wheels she could find, all welded together into a chunk of metal for her to settle on, plus it had a crane sticking out of her –

"Uh… excuse me…" Alisa said shyly. She looked away embarrassed, attempting to cover her 'modesty' unsuccessfully with her tiny hands. "Could you maybe… not stare at me so much? It is kind of embarrassing…"

The security guards looked turned to look at each other, not sure what to make of this sight, then looked back at the gynoid with their guns pointed.

"I do not want to hurt anyone either," she added, half waving her hands in protest, half covering her lower 'body'. "Please… let me pass… and look away…"

The security guard silently turned to his commander, who signaled to his men with a gesture of the head. Cocking their weapons, the guards took aim at the gynoid, and squeezed the trigger.

* * *

Takeda stood behind Lars and quickly reloaded his Berettas while the Swede took a surveyed their opposition.

"I thought I told the bastard to keep those robed freaks away…" Takeda muttered while the marionettes created a wall surrounding both men.

"Who?" Lars raised an eyebrow.

The Manji agent opened his mouth to speak, but paused to ponder an appropriate answer. "I'll tell you after we get through this," Takeda smirked under his mask.

Meanwhile, from one end of the 'wall', with a resounding crack of his neck, Bryan managed to recover from Lars' little ambush, eyes blazing with ferocity matching his surname. From the opposite, an expressionless Raven and Jack walked between the marionettes towards Takeda and Lars. From within the wall, Qiquiang watched both soldier and Manji ninja alike with the same peaceful visage he always wore.

As for Lars' men, nothing but a piling heap of bodies… the Swede felt a bead of sweat drip from his forehead down the side of his cheek, determined to save them, yet unable to do anything for them at the moment.

Takeda was more concerned about escaping with his life.

"Uh… that is, _if_ we manage to get through this…" Takeda corrected himself.

* * *

A very simple move… one quick slit to the throat, and bleed her dry. Hanako was hardly putting up a struggle against her grip (in fact, Hanako was too absorbed by the voices in her head to even notice), and the blade was mere inches away.

Minamoto, however, hesitated.

The opportunity to destroy Soleil's ultimate project doesn't happen very often, to say the least, and the kunoichi sensed such opportunity to be fading. It wasn't like she had never shed blood before, given her current job description. This should be no different.

And yet, for some reason, it felt different, and she didn't know why. Minamoto looked back at the terminal; the upload remained active, she noted. Then she turned back to the writhing Hanako, who was grabbing at the kunoichi's hand, but was unable to pry the fingers loose from her head.

This would be very easy. Maybe even a little _too_ easy, though that shouldn't have bothered her as much as it did…

Hanako let out another tortured wail, her voice reverberating through the cold, deathly silent room. The place reminded Minamoto of a time long ago, a wilderness covered in a blanket of white snow pure as death… and Minamoto wailed on the ground helplessly surrounded in a pool of crimson, looking straight into the eyes of death…

The kunoichi shook the memory out of her head. Why of all times she suddenly thought of her past, she wasn't sure. Clutching the weapon in her hand, she held the blade firmly to Hanako's throat and began to press it against her flesh.

_

* * *

BOOM!_

The corridor quickly erupted in flames as the guards scrambled to escape from the massive explosion.

From within the ball of fire, resembling something out of an apocalyptic sci-fi movie, a headless Alisa quickly scanned the room for casualties. According to readouts, some received minor injuries, but otherwise no lives were taken. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief, thankful that her built-in 'head bomb' did not kill anyone. On the other hand, she now found herself with fresh bullet holes on her body, some superficial, others managing to score a hit on some critical systems.

And at the moment, she couldn't sprout a new head. Now she really felt like an abomination.

Power levels now at 25 percent…

Reception at fifty percent…

The gynoid began to transmit, hoping to get a hold of Lars… and nothing.

Alisa had to hurry and find the others, but she wasn't sure where to begin. And even if she did manage to find Lars and his men, she wasn't certain how long she had before she completely ran out of power. Whatever she had to do, she had to act fast. Even in her damaged state, Alisa was more than capable of handling herself against armed men, but she could only do so for so long.

As she rolled along the corridor in her makeshift 'lift', the still headless girl spotted a plain looking, yet heavily secured door. It seemed important enough for her to at least take a peak, she thought.

Clumsily, Alisa made her way towards the door, bumping into some debris along the way. While certainly not handicapped by any means, courtesy of extra optics, sonars, and sensors built into her body by her creator and father, things would at least be a little easier if she could 'grow' a new head; movement would be less clumsy, and at the very least she would feel less awkward.

Fumbling at the doorway, Alisa quickly found an access panel to the right. As Lee Chaolan would say, 'excellent'. All she would need to do is to hack into the door's security and unlock it. Luckily for her, she still had her arms intact, along with the built-in tools needed to do so, courtesy again of her creator and father.

And once more… 'excellent'.

She quickly, yet carefully pried open the panel and, utilizing said tools built into her hands, began to quietly hack into the door's security. So far, so good.

* * *

"We have an intruder in Sector Upsilon, Order 710."

Furrowing his brow, Heihachi approached the multiple security monitors and watched. "Foolish girl," he murmured to himself.

"Your orders, master?" Dr. Romov asked.

"How is Nina?"

"She has yet to fully recover from her last operation – "

"Prep the assassin and dispatch her after that robot," he said. "Have Black Jack and Raven assist her. No matter what, the girl must not enter that room."

The scientist cocked her head. "But master," Dr. Romov began. "Nina still needs at least another hour to recuperate – "

Heihachi merely glared at the scientist. Dr. Romov shook her head in disbelief at her own apparent stupidity for even questioning her master in the first place.

"My apologies," Kalina bowed her head. "And what would you have me do with Hanako?" Dr. Romov asked.

The master of Soleil glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

"Ah," the scientist nodded. "My apologies for asking yet another foolish question," she replied and bowed her head again. It was a rarity for Kalina to be acting with such ignorance even once, let alone twice in mere moments. She hoped to never have a repeat performance. Looking back at her terminal, the scientist began punching in cryptic commands over her keyboard, transmitting the master's orders to Nina's holding cell.

Meanwhile, looking back at the monitors, Heihachi closed his eyes in concentration as purplish power crackled throughout his entire body. His eyes suddenly fluttered open as his once brown irises blazed with dark, demonic fire…

* * *

Then, things became a little bit confusing.

Hanako's wailing had stopped. Instead, Minamoto found herself surrounded by a purple mist emanating from the woman's body. Then, from the mist, she saw many different faces float to the air and flutter towards her. The faces gradually began to gather together, forming a large, translucent mass of what appeared to be fur. Then, a pair of large, muscular arms with razor-sharp claws protruded from the mass, while a ghastly head started to form with a pair of pointed ears, predatory eyes, and a large, canine shaped snout.

The sight alone made Minamoto hesitate for just the briefest of seconds. It was all that was needed for the giant 'wolf' to reach out and, in one mighty swipe, slam her to the ground.

"Run…"

Minamoto blinked in confusion. The red haired kunoichi clumsily lifted herself to a sitting position, balancing herself with her left hand behind her, and watched as the wolf demon was being 'pulled' back by some invisible force. Standing behind the omnipotent creature, Hanako kneeled on one knee with hands balled into fists, mentally struggling to keep the monster at bay…

"Run!" Hanako bellowed.

Without a second thought, Minamoto scrambled back to her feet, dashed towards the terminal to retrieve the data disk, and quickly left woman and wolf behind…

* * *

"What!" Bryan gaped.

"Master's orders," Raven said in a monotonous voice, more so than usual.

"You are not leaving me alone with those wooden puppets and that bald bastard!"

Before the cyborg could make any further protest, both android and ninja agent backed away from the circle and vanished.

"Wonderful – oof!"

"Attention away from Wesley Snipes, eyes on me, *****," Takeda spat. That comment elicited a snarl from Bryan, much to the Manji ninja's satisfaction.

"You stupid piece of – " Bryan's words were cut off as a wave of sickness struck him, causing the cyborg to waver. It was all Takeda needed, and more, as the blue haired man hoisted Bryan over his head, leapt high into the air, and, hurtling downwards while spinning in midair, slammed the cyborg into a small group of marionettes below. Some of the marionettes managed to hover out of the way, though three unlucky ones became a pile of splintered pieces of wood under the combined weight of Bryan and Takeda.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starting to feel refreshed," Takeda smirked.

Lars, on the other hand, felt troubled by both Raven and Jack's sudden retreat. The four fighters and the marionettes ambushed them and practically put them on the defensive. Given more time, both Lars and Takeda would have been overwhelmed. With the ninja and the droid out of the picture, though the odds still not in his favor, the chances of escape looked very promising, and that fact bothered him.

No time to worry about that. The Swede had more pressing issues at the moment, such as dealing with the four marionettes standing in his way.

_BOOM!_

Never mind…

"Your timing could not have been anymore impeccable," Lars breathed a sigh of relief, brushing the dirt off his outfit and kicking over the charred remains of the four wooden puppets.

"Sorry 'bout that," came the dazed voice of Alpha 2 brandishing a grenade launcher. The rest of the former Specials were back on their feet, beaten and bruised, but otherwise alive. "Would have helped out sooner if the old man hadn't kicked the living **** out of us."

"I don't know about you guys, but I don't have any other reason to stick around," Takeda spoke out, reloading his pistols while eyeing the marionettes warily. "Minamoto rang and told us to _run_."

With those words said, Qiquiang immediately gestured to the remaining marionettes in an attempt to contain the men. Bryan stumbled back to his feet, holding a hand over his chest as though wounded, yet his expression remained wrathful.

"Run we shall," Lars said and looked over to his men.

"Got it covered," Alpha 2 rasped. With a flick of his wrist, Alpha 2 quickly dropped a pair of smoke grenades. Instantly, the area where they were standing was completely enveloped in a heavy blanket of smoke, rendering visibility all around to zero. Qiquiang along with the marionettes tried to respond, but the sounds of fists colliding and the raucous noise of gunfire rendered their response for naught.

"****!" Bryan's voice boomed, waving his hands at the smoke while stumbling on his feet. "Where the hell did they go!"

* * *

Alisa finally managed to sprout a new head. Now all that was left for the gynoid to do was to open that door.

The security, though, was a little more complex than she thought. Even with her equipment and advanced programming, getting through the various algorithms was very tedious.

Power levels at 22 percent.

Still, Alisa made quick progress. Decryption of the door's security reached ninety two point seven percent. It won't be long until the door opens and –

"Huh?" Alisa cocked her head in confusion as the door suddenly slid open. Wonderment, however, was quickly replaced with shock as she realized how the door opened by itself.

Nina Williams.

Reception now at eighty seven percent.

(Lars…) she began to transmit.

_

* * *

(Kiyaaaaaaaaah!)_

It was the last sound the Swede heard before communication was terminated.


	24. Stage 23

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 23_

Day five of the tournament.

Kazuya was furious… and when Kazuya gets furious, woe to those who stand in his way.

For instance, Devil.

"Why hello, boy," the purple doppelganger said in a pleasant, yet sarcastic voice. "It has been days since we last spoke. I thought you had forgotten about me."

Kazuya, in his wrath, replied with a backhand to the face.

"Yes, nice to see you are in good spirits as well," Devil growled.

Relentlessly, Kazuya continued to unleash his anger on the defenseless demon, striking it with a flurry of punches to the head and body. The chains rattled from the force, the restraints barely keeping Devil in place as the former G-Corporation CEO landed blow after punishing blow on his devilish copy.

"Is (oof)… this (ack)… the (oof)… best (ugh)… you've (oof)… got!" Devil taunted between blows.

Angrily, Kazuya responded in kind with a forward kick with the left leg to the chin, snapping the demons' head back. Then he immediately followed with a punch to the face, the blow causing the chains to rattle loudly. A sweep of the right leg to the abdomen, and finally a left hand to the side of the ribcage, and the punishment ended. Devil coughed and wheezed from the combination, sweat dripping profusely from his face.

"Heh… hehehe…" Devil sputtered. "Weak, boy… very weak…"

Kazuya glared angrily at the purplish demon, grabbing him by the throat.

"Oh, give me a break," Devil rolled his eyes. "Your childish fits are empty to me. If that is the worst you could come up with, I could hang for an eternity taking those – " Devil's haughty demeanor suddenly changed to horror as Kazuya pointed his index and middle finger towards the demon's forehead. "Oh… oh, no…"

_SQUISH!_

Devil screamed in agony as Kazuya dug his fingers hard through the demon's third eye. A dark, viscous fluid squirted from the bloodied socket, staining Kazuya's face and dripping down Devil's forehead.

"What was that?" Kazuya seethed, twisting his fingers with a quick jerk. "I can't hear you from all that incessant noise! Speak!"

"Yeargh!" Devil cried out, writhing in agony.

Sadistic hunger partially satiated, Kazuya violently withdrew his fingers from the socket and released his grasp on the demon's throat. Devil's head hung low as he gasped for breath. As he did, the socket on his forehead gradually began to heal, the crimson jewel regenerating itself before Kazuya's eyes.

"That… was uncalled for…" Devil groaned. The G-Corporation CEO responded with another stab of his fingers into the third eye, this time plucking it out of the forehead, then crushing it in his hands. "Stop that!" Devil snapped, the bloodied socket healing once more. "That's rude!"

"Rude would be a dog barking without his master's permission," Kazuya folded his arms over his chest.

"Huh… very witty of you…" Devil sniffed. "I wonder how long it took for you to come up…" the demon thought better of it as Kazuya threatened with his fingers. "Fine! What do you want, boy!"

Kazuya furrowed his brow. "You lied to me!" he snapped. "I should have known not to take your word in face value!"

"Lie to you?" Devil raised an eyebrow. "Lie to you! Hahahaha! Boy, I have been lying to you the moment we became one! To which lie are you prattling about!"

"Do not take me for a fool, demon," Kazuya answered in a low, gruff voice. "You know what I am inferring to, or do you wish me to _dig_ it out of you?"

"Actually, _no_, I do _not_ know what nonsense you are spouting!" Devil spat in retaliation. "And jabbing me with those filthy paws of yours will do nothing save to soil what is left of my magnificent physique, so why don't you enlighten me!"

"Your translations on that data were faulty!" Kazuya, grabbing Devil by the hair, erupted into a fit of rage. "Your piece of 'advice' had just about cost me all but my life!"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait… wait…" Devil squinted at Kazuya perplexed. "What do you mean they were faulty?"

"The formula which I had shown you failed utterly," Kazuya breathed into the demon's face. "My agents ran into some unexpected security under your assurances that there were holes in the seals. The old man is much closer to completing Hanako than you had surmised! That annoying spawn of my bloodline remains useless to me! Pick one!"

"Impossible," Devil muttered under his breath. "As much of an advantage as Heihachi has over us, neither his security should be so tight, nor should his little pet be near completion."

"So are you telling me that you are incompetent!"

"I am saying it should not be possible!" Devil hollered back. "The data you had shown me on that project should have been sufficient to begin with, though I did insist on breaking into Soleil's maximum security levels would still be necessary… Correction, you already had that in mind before, I merely encouraged you to follow that instinct. At least tell me your agents managed to procure something from that mainframe!"

"Again, my agents ran into some unexpected security," Kazuya repeated through clenched teeth. He yanked the Devil by one of the chains hooked to his body and landed a right fist to the abdomen. "And let me take this opportunity to remind you that you are in no position to make demands!"

"Yes, thank you for the reminder," Devil shook his head. "Now, oh great Kazuya, will you _please_ tell me those agents managed to procure something from that mainframe! Please?"

Kazuya glared at his doppelganger through his single red eye, yet decided to humor the demon in turn. "They managed to find something. When the time comes, you will help translate."

Devil scoffed at his host. "Is that all you have to say?"

Not wishing to be around the demon's presence any further, Kazuya turned his back and walked away.

"Kazuya? Kazuya!"

Before the former G-Corporation CEO disappeared from the demon's presence, Devil managed to utter a few words at him. "You may be able to hide your reasons for doing this from others, and I must say you are doing a horrendous job at it, but I know your real motivations." Arching his head towards his host, he added, "Remember what I've said about sentiments, boy! When you decide to have another of your, how you mortals put it, 'one night stands,' do not come running back to me when you stumble and fall! I will probably end up dead because of you anyways! Do you hear me! Kazuya!"

* * *

Minamoto stared at her bowl of ramen. She had no appetite for those noodles, an impossibility for those who are familiar with her.

"You don't like them?" she heard a voice from behind. The kunoichi didn't have to turn to see who it was.

"I'm not in the mood for your jokes," Minamoto sighed.

"And why do you assume I'm gonna make fun of you?" Takeda asked, pretending to be hurt by the remark.

"When do you not make fun of me?"

"When something is bothering you," he stated.

"It has never stopped you in the past."

The Manji agent shrugged and sat next to his partner. "Well, I can assure you that I am not here to crack jokes at your expense. What's wrong?"

Minamoto remained silent, still staring into the bowl.

"Alright, I see you just want to be alone," Takeda nodded gently. "I understand. I will call you if Kazuya has any other work for us."

Minamoto continued to ignore him as he backed away. As Takeda reached the door, the blue haired man paused in his tracks.

"I have something of a little confession to make," he said. "Would you like to hear it?" he asked.

The kunoichi sulked in response. The blue haired ninja was unsure what to make of her reply. He decided that it was a 'yes'.

"The last couple of years have been real tough on us, with the loss of our master, and the sacred sword," he spoke. "For some reason, though, I… feel that out of all of us, you've probably had it worse. I… can't imagine what you've been through… heh… especially being stuck with a stupid idiot like me."

From the ninja's point of view, Minamoto remained unmoved. Takeda rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.

"I only know bits and pieces of your past, but I know for a fact it was a rather bloody one, and you were young when it happened," he continued. "Yes, yes, I know, prying into personal life is none of your business, and I'm sorry for that. The point being is that in spite of all this, you became tough, dedicated to the cause, not letting the past overwhelm you. And while none of us here are a shining example of morality, you can be very… compassionate. As much of a good cause the Manji may stand for, I know for a fact that the rest of us tend to lose ourselves so much for said cause that we become… twisted… ugly inside. You on the other hand… not so much. It's… what I always admired about you. I'm sure master would be smiling at you."

Takeda cleared his throat.

"So… what I'm getting at is… don't let what happened last night bother you," he said. "You saw Hanako as a victim instead of a monster. Failing to kill her when you had the chance makes you the most human out of all of us. Don't ever change that."

The room was silent at the end.

"Uh… you know, that whole thing sounded much better in my head…" Takeda clasped his hands together. "So… I shall be delivering the data you had uploaded," he said. "Hopefully nothing has gotten corrupted from all the abuse it had taken, and we shall see what Kazuya has to say. I will call you if anything important comes up."

Minamoto remained still as she heard the door open and Takeda's footsteps exiting their suite.

"You said… you said you wouldn't joke at my expense…" she stammered to herself, wiping away the tears from her eyes.

* * *

Kyuuto Ishida was nervous. No, not just nervous. Deathly ill would be a more apt statement.

Anna looked upset.

Bruce was pissed.

"What the hell happened?" Anna seethed at the businessman.

"Yeah, what the hell happened!" the kick boxer echoed the Scarlet Lightning's question.

"I… I don't know," Kyuuto trembled.

"You don't know?" Anna leaned forward on his desk and wrapped her finger on his tie. "You are one of Soleil's top ranked managers in the company with access to some of the most sensitive labs as well as head of the current Gaia Project, and you don't know what the hell happened!"

"Yeah, what the hell happened to the wireless in my room!" Bruce interjected. Anna smacked the kick boxer on the back of his head. "What! I've been trying to get a hold of Sharon for the past few – "

"Stop it, Bruce," Anna shook her head dismissively.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to lez out with my wife."

"No, really, stop."

Bruce sighed and stepped away from the conversation. "I better get my wireless back," he muttered, jumping onto the sofa and relaxed.

"Look…" Kyuuto licked his lips. "I know what it looks like, but believe me… I – I did not tip off my master about your agents. I honestly have no idea how the master knew about your plan…"

The brunette looked at the businessman straight into the eye, causing the latter to gulp. "Call me crazy, but I actually believe you," she said.

"Wait… y-you do?" he stammered. "I mean… you do, but, uh… yes, I am telling you the truth… Why do you believe me?"

"We've been keeping an eye on you this whole time," Anna smiled. "We knew when you walked in and out of the office. We knew you ordered a seafood chow mein for dinner and couldn't finish it up. We knew you took a dump afterwards due to indigestion. And you wear pink underwear."

Kyuuto's jaw hit the floor.

"Yet you still couldn't figure out why there's no wireless in my suite!" Bruce interjected.

"Don't make me hit you, Brucie," Anna said through clenched teeth.

"Wait… so if you knew all this… why were you interrogating me?" Kyuuto asked.

"Because it's fun," Anna winked.

"Oh…"

"The real reason why we are here is make sure Heihachi doesn't know your involvement," Anna said. "We covered our trails, but given what has happened last night, we have to be sure."

* * *

Bryan laid on his bed impatiently while awaiting his diagnosis. The cyborg had never felt so sick in his entire life.

"What the **** is wrong with me, doc?" the cyborg grumbled.

Examining her patient in silence, Kalina monitored the readouts in her typical, stoic demeanor, completely tuning out Bryan's question.

"Well? Answer me!"

The good doctor sighed, adjusting the rim of her glasses as she approached the cyborg.

"I believe I have answered your question as thoroughly as possible using the most simple, mundane terms for you to understand," she said.

Bryan growled under his breath. "You also mentioned that the 'stop gap' you added was supposed to give me another week!"

"Correction, _might_ give you another week," she stated. "The cybernetics that Dr. Abel installed in your body are quite… complex. More so when they are damaged. You are simply lucky to still be alive, though the amount of corrosion makes any temporary fix very difficult to assess."

"You still haven't answered my question," Bryan said through clenched teeth. "What the **** is wrong with me!"

Dr. Romov fought the urge to hit him. "The short answer is 'you are dying'," she answered flatly. "The long answer is 'you are dying, but I need to diagnose you further before I give you a proper answer'. The more you interrupt me, the longer that will take."

The cyborg glared at the scientist. "Don't play coy with me," he grunted. "I know you're hiding something. I can smell it beneath your cheap perfume."

"First of all, I do not wear perfume," she replied. "They are vile to the olfactory senses, and irritating to the skin. And second…" she smiled slyly. "I suppose you are not as dense as you look. That makes you mildly tolerable."

Now it was Bryan's turn to fight the urge not to hit the scientist.

"Alright, I shall give you my honest answer," Kalina said. "When I said I don't have the cure for your ailment, I was indeed telling you the truth. On the other hand, I am also not in a rush to find it. My orders from the master were simply to keep you alive just long enough."

"Long enough?" Bryan hissed.

"Long enough," Kalina whispered.

"Cheeky little girl, aren't you? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't – "

"Let me guess… hit me? Punch me like you would a wounded animal? Twist my neck until you hear my spine snap? Or perhaps you wish to break every bone in my body so I may writhe in agony. Am I getting close?"

"Actually, I considered the idea of boozing you up, strip you naked, and perhaps if I'm really in the mood, **** your cute brains out till you're dead, but those ideas you suggested would also work," Bryan shrugged sarcastically.

"Revolting as usual," Kalina clicked her tongue.

"Oh, I always try my best, babe."

"I am certain you do," the scientist said. "Regardless, let me remind you that the last time you entertained the idea of… provoking your saviors… well, even under the circumstances you were in, Dr. Abel did deserve what was coming to him. On the other hand, Yoshimitsu and Dr. Bosconovitch were entirely a different story, especially given that he was going to give you a brand new body seeing as the perpetual engine was only meant to be a temporary fix."

Bryan looked at the scientist silently.

"Ah, your memories also haven't dulled," Dr. Romov continued. "While certainly not done entirely out of charity, nevertheless the old man did intend to save your wretched life… that is, until you got a little too excited over your perceived immortality, and assaulted the doctor and killed off most of the Manji ninjas in his lab. Perhaps they were naïve, but it was that very instance that got you into this current predicament in the first place."

"Oh, I will definitely enjoy ******* your little brains out."

"Keep your childish fantasies to yourself," Kalina waved him off. "Remember, it was you who came to us for help, not us. We have no obligations to save you, nor do we have any real use for your kind, but the master saw fit to save you on the brink of death just for the sake of showing some kind of mercy on you. However, we also do not intend to see a repeat performance, just in case you were stupid enough to do it again. Hence why I simply need to keep you alive 'long enough'. Now, if you wish to see your chances of living extended beyond merely 'long enough', I would suggest you stop interrupting me, and continue to lie down."

Grudgingly, without another word, Bryan obliged and laid back down.

"Good, Mr. Fury," Kalina said.

* * *

Deep in one of the labs, Raven –

"BLARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGH!"

…threw up.

"Rise and shine, homey, rise and shine."

Raven's mind barely even registered the voice and its mocking tone. At the moment, the agent was simply too busy trying to keep his insides from spilling out of his throat while ignoring the rush of emotions searing through his brain.

"Just so you know, I have now become one of your biggest fans," the voice continued. "Truly, you government secret ninja agents are as tough as advertised. Which is good, because I was getting quite bored being by myself."

"Happy… to keep you company… Nina…" Raven wheezed.

"Thank you, you are quite the gentleman," the Silent Assassin chirped, rubbing her back against her chair. "Honestly, though, it would be nice for someone to at least help scratch my back. Those seats are not exactly luxury items, and the restraints don't help much. Plus they clash with the rest of the décor."

The ninja looked at the Irish woman incredulously, unconsciously testing the restraints on his wrists. "You… seem rather… chipper given our… circumstances…"

"Eh, I don't know, you get used to it," Nina shrugged. "I mean, the first time was like, whoa ***** whoa! The second time, I was saying things like 'aw effity-eff-eff-eff it all!' Only it wasn't 'effity-eff-eff' but more like the full acronym with added emphasis on the letter 'eff', you know? But after about the thirty seventh or eighth time of having your skull ****** in both eye sockets and between the earlobes… it's not so bad. Kind of tingles after a while, too. Just think of it like being in a bondage porn set and you're the star, only very low budget, and none of the leather. Just the raping, the bad acting… and the toys. Oh, you gotta love the toys!"

Raven lowered his head… or at least would have lowered his head if not for the restraints around his neck. "Great… I'm stuck with this psycho *****."

"Oh, now don't be so sad," Nina winked. "Think of the benefits you get from a job like this! You get free food, free lodging, free health care, all the entertainment you can possibly get, and the only thing it costs you is your sanity! Since I lost mine a while back, I consider this a win-win for me!"

"Ugh…"

"Seriously!" Nina squeaked. "But if the initial pain of having an imaginary phallic object lodged up your nose really makes you feel squeamish (as well as makes you question your sexual identity), I have one simply piece of advice for you. Guaranteed to work every single time."

"Huh…" Raven grunted. "And… what advice… would this be?"

"Think… positive…" she replied in a low voice. "Now, now before you dismiss this as some kuh-_ra_-zee little blonde ***** spouting off cow feces, it works! It really, really works! Let me give you an example."

"Wonderful…"

"Every time I feel like I'm going to puke out my whole intestinal tract out, I think… cats."

"Cats?"

"Cats."

"Cats…"

"Yes, cats," Nina nodded enthusiastically. "Grey cats. Fuzzy grey cats. Cute, fuzzy grey cats. Cute, fuzzy grey cats named Tom. Cute, fuzzy grey cats named Tom with a baseball bat. Cute, fuzzy grey cats named Tom with a baseball bat chasing rats. Cute, fuzzy grey cats named Tom with a baseball bat chasing rats named Jerry. Cute, fuzzy grey cats named Tom with a baseball bat chasing rats named Jerry and all his little friends in white coats who got me into this ******* get-up _who the moment I am free (which I will be, that's a guarantee) will have their eyeballs gouged, their kneecaps blown, and their nuts ripped out complete with their sacks and then shoved down their sweaty orifices so help me dear LORD ALMIGHTY I swear it, you hear me!_ That's right, ********! I'm gonna rip them nuts out of you, you, you, you, and you, Poindexter, including those who have no nuts, and I will _shove them down your orifices, one rectal, one oral, in each and every one of you in this stinkin' hellhole until you're puking babies from your nipples!_ _Guaran-damn-tee_!"

Nina took a moment to catch her breath, while the scientists behind the windows looked away.

"And then I'll eat a turkey sandwich."

Raven blinked at the assassin twice. "I… I think I will take that under advisement…" he said.

"That's the spirit!" Nina giggled. "So… you seen any chick flicks lately?"

* * *

Lars wanted to throw up.

First, Lee Chaolan. Now, Alisa Bosconovitch.

The moment he heard the gynoid's scream through his transmitter, Lars felt a chill down his spine. He had never heard Alisa scream the way she did. Agonizing, fearful, hysterical… and that made him feel ill.

His teammates did tell him that it he would be too late to reach her, given the size of the complex, yet he didn't care. Even after the cries and screams died down, Lars kept on moving forward, caring nothing about his own safety. He was able to track down her location, and through much toil and struggle, not to mention another endless network of hallways, ducts, and doors, he eventually made his way to where Alisa was… only to find nothing more than a broken mess of metal in laying lifelessly on front of his feet.

The first reaction he felt was anger. He told her not to follow him. He did mention it was too dangerous. Why did she not listen!

Then he felt guilt. She may not be made of flesh and blood, but Alisa was as human as any man, woman, or child. When he told her to stay, he saw the sadness in her eyes. Looking back, he realized that by telling her not to come with him, she took it as though it was rejection. Then he thought back to the way he distanced himself from her. The loss of his brother, whether they were related by blood or not, was a tremendous blow for him, much more so than he ever thought. He could not risk the same thing happening to Alisa…

How could I have been so foolish, he would think to himself. If only he took the time to explain himself, perhaps she would have understood.

"Sir?"

Warily, the Swede turned to one of his soldiers.

"Uh… I'm sorry," Lars shook his head. "You were saying?"

"We've… tried just about everything we could to decrypt that data we retrieved," the soldier said. "All we managed to do was get gibberish. I'm sorry, sir."

"No worries," Lars smiled weakly and patted the man on the shoulder. "Tell the men to rest. We will figure something out."

"Sir?"

"It has been a long week," Lars sighed. "Go."

"Yes, sir," the soldier turned and walked away. Before leaving his commander, the soldier stopped and said, "I'm… sorry about Alisa. I know it doesn't mean much coming from me, but… I can't imagine the loss you feel." The soldier paused, awkwardly trying to think of something else to say. "If you need us, you know where we are."

With that, Lars was alone in his thoughts once more.

Lars pulled out a photograph from his pocket and stared at the image. A simple little photo of Chaolan, Alisa, and himself, standing proudly together in what Chaolan would call their own little family portrait. Lars sighed to himself. He could scarcely remember when that particular picture was taken, but he did remember it was after another disagreement over one of Chaolan's executive decisions. The Swede placed the photo back into his pocket and stared out into the open space.

No use brooding, he thought. All he had left was to complete his mission…

"Rest in peace, my friends," he said.

* * *

Do machines sleep? If they do, do they dream?

Can a machine have a soul? If they can, would they go to heaven?

Several question like these and more went through Alisa's mind as she wandered through… through… she wasn't sure what she was wandering through.

Alisa recounted many tales of people having gone through near death experiences, including seeing a tunnel and a white light. Here, on the other hand, all she could see were… neon colored pulses… and the occasional fuzzy static.

Strange.

She fluttered about like a wisp, floating through the pulses of colors and lights. Alisa could not tell which direction to go in this… pulsating expanse. It looked absolutely huge, and yet somehow confining at the same time. She could not explain it, even through logic.

Where should she start?

Whimsically, she watched as a bright blue light whizzed past her, and decided to follow it.

* * *

Jin exhaled deeply as he approached Eddy's room. It had been a couple of days since the two fought in the tournament.

It wasn't really much of a fight to begin with. Jin merely allowed himself to get pummeled while Eddy continuously attacked. Through some stroke of luck (which Jin had been finding to be more and more of a curse), the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO won the match while Eddy ended up hospitalized.

Jin felt like punching a wall. The seal around his neck was supposed to have contained his Devil Gene. Beyond the unusual visions and gruesome nightmares he had received, not once had he gone berserk since his capture. This was not supposed to happen…

From what Jin understood, Eddy was strong; a lesser man would have died from the injuries he had sustained. However, in the end, Eddy was still a man, and like any man, he could succumb to his injuries at any moment. As far as Jin was concerned, he had little time left…

Jin felt a warm muzzle rubbing against his arm.

"Don't worry, Panda," he said assuredly. "You just wait here."

The giant panda bear moaned and obediently laid on the ground. Taking another deep breath, Jin straightened out the collar of his suit, and, opening the door, walked in.

It was worse than he thought.

He knew the injuries were severe, but to see the results for his very own eyes was an entirely different story. Underneath the various tubes attached to his body, along with the various bandages, dressings, and the most ominous machines surrounding the bed, Eddy looked more like a dying husk than the once proud capoerista whom he had battled with and against since the third tournament. Composing himself, Jin quietly approached Eddy's bed and looked him straight in the eye.

"Huh… so good of you to visit…" Eddy rasped.

"You're awake," Jin answered softly.

"What the hell do you want from me now – " Eddy coughed, " – pretty boy? You just about took everything else from me."

Jin didn't answer.

"Don't tell me you're here because you felt sorry for me," Eddy snarled.

"I'm merely here to see how you are doing," Jin answered matter of fact.

"How… nice," Eddy wheezed. The capoerista went into a fit of coughing, his breathing shallow as he struggled to speak.

"Eddy…"

"Don't… touch me… Kazama…" Eddy growled, wheezing through his mouth as he struggled to maintain his breathing. "I don't need your sympathy!"

Jin stepped back and watched the man silently.

"You know, pretty boy," Eddy continued, "I was… told by the doctors that I was lucky to be alive… heh… lucky he says…" His dark eyes shifted away from Jin towards one of the life support machines keeping him alive. "Let me tell you a little about _my_ luck… my father… was killed by your papa… and I ended up in jail for a crime I didn't commit."

Eddy paused, closing his eyes as he recollected the past.

"I probably would have ended up rotting in prison if not for the kindness and generosity of one old man… the man who would eventually become my teacher… and my friend…"

_Ho Chi Myong_, Jin thought to himself.

"I left prison intending to get even with the one who killed my father… while also keeping my promise to my master that I would pass on his fighting skills… to his granddaughter… Christie…" Eddy struggled to contain his emotions as tears welled up in his eyes. "But… just my luck… my master dies because _you_ withheld the cure that could have saved his life… and your grandfather, Heihachi, used his robed goons to suck the life out of Christie… right in front of my eyes!"

If Jin felt any sort of remorse for the man, he did not reveal it in his expression. The former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO merely stood and listened.

"You… your family… took everything that I loved… everything that I cared from me!" Eddy rasped. "I have no home… no family… no friends… nothing! And the doctor says I am lucky!" Eddy clenched his fists weakly under the sheets. "At this point, I could give a **** about being 'lucky'." The capoerista forced a smile from his trembling lips as he looked Jin straight in the eye. "You want to be charitable, pretty boy? Huh? Then do me a favor and end this…"

Jin furrowed his brow at Eddy's 'request'.

"Don't… give me that look…" Eddy said through clenched teeth. "Let me remind you… you Mishimas took just about everything that I hold dear from me… everything, save my life!" The Brazilian arched his neck, his jaw tightened as his emotions cracked. "Do us both a favor… and end this ****. Now!"

The reigning King of Iron Fist champion turned away for a moment, contemplating what to do.

"I'm waiting!" Eddy goaded.

Finally, Jin made a motion to Eddy's bed. Walking towards the IV drip, Jin carefully pulled out a syringe hidden within his sleeve.

"Heh… hehe…" Eddy chuckled, as he watched his former employer prepare the needle. "I should not be so surprised…" he coughed. "After all… you are a punk… like your father… and his father before him…"

Jin paused for a moment, holding the needle in his hand. He pondered the statement in his head as he stared at the clear fluid in the syringe.

"May you be reunited with your loved ones," Jin finally said, as he injected the needle into the IV tube.


	25. Stage 24

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 24_

"Let me out, let me out!" echoed the cries of Hanako through her glass imprisonment.

Scientists and lab technicians scrambled around the capsule, that accursed cage which had been Hanako's only 'home' for as long as she could remember, trying to reign in the frantic woman with no avail. Their faces were filled with bafflement as they worked to reactivate the seals, though, again, to no avail save to make the woman angrier. At the moment, save for her head, Hanako remained immobilized within her capsule. Given time, however…

"Let me out!" Hanako screamed. "Let me out, let me out, let me out!"

The scientists worked feverishly, trying to keep their wits about as Hanako gradually regained more of her mobility. At that point, her fingers trembled under an invisible restraint, trying to break free from its artificially induced confinement. That was when the door to the lab slid open.

"Update," Dr. Romov walked into the lab, tugging at the collar of her lab coat.

"The reinforced chamber is still holding, though secondary and tertiary seals no longer have any effect," one of the scientists replied. "We have no success in immobilizing her."

"Yes, I can see that," Dr. Romov muttered under her breath disdainfully. "Status?"

"Heart rate elevated to critical conditions," another scientist replied. "The souls within are beginning to tear her apart!"

_BANG!_

Everyone save Kalina jumped as Hanako began clawing at the glass with her right hand.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

"Let me go!" she shrieked, banging on the glass repeatedly. Her eyes were ablaze as her face twisted and contorted. Writhing under confinement, she bellowed out an ear piercing shriek, twisting her arm against the glass. "Let me out! Let me out! Rarrrrrgh!" Setting her gaze at Dr. Romov, in one disembodied voice, she repeated, "_Let… us… out!_"

The scientists and the security officers in the lab shuddered at the sight. Kalina, on the other hand, merely huffed at Hanako's direction.

"I'm afraid we can't have that now, can we?" she said, adjusting the rims of her glasses, and calmly made her way to a computer terminal next to Hanako's capsule. "Focus everyone," she snapped at the stunned scientists. "Monitor her vitals and alert me of any sudden changes," as she spoke, disembodied 'spirits' gradually floated from Hanako's body and, steeling their gaze against all the scientists in the lab, thrashed against the reinforced glass of their prison, letting out a spiteful, torturous moan towards their captives.

"_Let… us… out!_" the voices repeated scornfully. Soon, Hanako began reaching out with both arms towards the doctor, her fingers twitching with murderous intent. The 'spirits' echoed their demands with Hanako in unison, "_Let… us… out!_" Over and over, chanting the same three words as though under a spell.

In the meantime, Dr. Romov remained steadfast. "_I_ will put her to sleep."

* * *

Thirty minutes after the ordeal that was putting Hanako back to sleep, Kalina made her way to Heihachi's office. Clacking her heels against the cold, dark floor, she stood face to face with the entrance of the office, and let herself in.

Ever since she began working for her 'master', trips to the office became a routine, more so with the tournament underway. The constant face to face meetings, the reports on Hanako's development, the various tests from said development, the subsequent paperwork from said tests, reports, and meetings, and the occasional maintenance…

"Master?" she announced herself in the pitch black office. She looked around the room and diverted her eyes towards the large table sitting in the middle of the dark expanse.

It was empty.

"I have arrived," she said to the empty room.

Agonizing seconds passed. All of a sudden, a white light shone just behind the desk. At first, a mere crack of illumination broke through the veil of shadow. Then quickly, the illumination spread outwards until it became a white pillar swallowing the darkness just behind the master's seat. Adjusting the bridge of her glasses with a calm push of her finger, Kalina made her way towards the pillar of light and stepped into its white brilliance.

"_Report_."

Not even a second had passed, and Kalina immediately found herself standing before a large, capsulated cryostasis chamber of reinforced glass and tubes. The room itself was small and brightly lit with soft white and dark blue hues, the walls filled with intricate networks upon networks of light and monitors, a stark contrast to the large, dark expanse of blackness that was the office of the corporation's CEO, though no less frightening to the average soul. Humming quietly in the middle of the room, the large water-filled cryostasis unit continued its usual cycle, draining the 'old' water while simultaneously refilling itself with fresh, clean water for the body within. A chaotic mess of bubbles buffeted the tank, masking the body within, keeping the figure from being identified.

The master's personal throne room.

"I have managed to keep Hanako pacified," Kalina replied to the booming voice, bowing her head courteously to the cryostasis chamber. "So long as we maintain the seals, such bouts should not occur until the final stage."

"_Excellent_," the voice boomed within the glass capsule. "_And what of that cyborg soldier?_"

"Equally obnoxious as before," Kalina replied. "Otherwise, I have kept Mr. Fury under life support until further notice."

"_Hmm_."

Wordlessly, Kalina pulled open the control panel just beneath the glass of the capsule and went about the business of maintaining the cryostasis chamber.

Another day of routine maintenance.

"_Something is disturbing you_," the master's voice boomed matter of fact.

"No, not at all," Kalina replied, her fingers fluttering along the keyboard without pause.

"_Do not lie to me_," the master of Soleil answered. "_Others may be fooled by your stoic appearance, but I can read through your expressions_."

"Apologies," Kalina answered, her eyes still fixed on the capsule's readouts while her fingers still danced on the controls. "I am not so much disturbed as much as I am… concerned."

"_Concerned?_"

"About your plans," she admitted. "It is, of course, none of my business to be questioning your motives. You have brought the company this far, and Hanako's completion will be upon us."

"_And you know how to say the right words to appease me_," the master laughed. "_However, while I do expect nothing but absolute loyalty from my subjects, it would be remiss of me to not extend a certain level of malevolence for my most… humble of servants, especially since I am close to attaining godhood. Consider this a practice of mercy. Speak your mind, my good doctor_."

The doctor paused momentarily, pondering the proper words in her mind. "My concerns stem from the very 'mercy' you have extended before me," she replied. "Though I am… grateful for allowing me this platform, I am not so certain of the others you have been so generous to up until this point."

"_Hm…_" the voice said. "_I believe I know who you speak of. Specifically those within my family_."

"Yes, that is correct," she said without pause. "Kazuya and Jin."

"_Hmhmhm… you need not to concern yourself over such trivial matters_," the voice chuckled. "_Kazuya I have him under control. I have had my eyes on him since the moment he agreed to work for me_."

* * *

This match was bound to happen, sooner or later. This was the battle that the fighter fanatics had been anticipating for a long time. Many setbacks had prevented this particular match up to occur, including traffic jams along the freeway… but now, what had become a mere dream had become reality.

All things considering, Kazuya was perfectly fine with it. He needed someone to vent his anger on without crumbling in ten seconds. And other than another Mishima, there was perhaps no other candidate more suitable for that role than the hot blooded American himself, Paul Phoenix.

And as far as Paul Phoenix himself was concerned, three words sum up his feelings: 'it's about time'.

"Oryaah!"

Kazuya raised his forearms to block Paul's charging right fist, the judo practitioner's signature 'Death Fist'. Fist impacted flesh, Kazuya felt his arms go numb, and his body skidded backwards from the Death Fist's sheer force while kicking up dust.

The former G-Corporation CEO had to admit, as dense as Paul Phoenix may be, the hot blooded American certainly lived up to his reputation as one of the strongest fighters in the world. Certainly, Paul would go so far as call himself the greatest fighter in the whole universe… that part, however, was debatable.

The clock ticked forward, seconds upon seconds had passed.

Not relenting in his offence, Paul leapt into the air and extended his right leg into a flying kick. The move was very precise; too low for Kazuya to properly counter, and just out of reach of Kazuya's range, all Kazuya could do was block the kick and prepare for another round of attacks. And just as he thought, Paul stepped forward and delivered a one two punch.

_The idiot has improved,_ Kazuya thought, noting the careful execution of the American's moves as he parried another set of blows. Indeed, Paul had since expanded upon his arsenal, better utilizing his speed while still retaining his potent power that he had become renowned for. That was evident as the American was able to weave from Kazuya's own punches and place some carefully timed jabs in between. Kazuya managed to block those jabs, but noticed the increase in power behind those blows.

One thing that hadn't changed, however, was Paul's basic strategy of setting his opponents up for the Death Fist. The Death Fist, or Phoenix Smasher in other parts of the world, was synonymous with Paul, the epitome of his bone crushing style of judo. Simple in appearance, quick in execution, that single, charging right fist has knocked out many opponents and won the judo practitioner many matches. Only the Mishima Karate's Thunder God Fist matches the blow in strength, though not in quickness. Kazuya kept a wary eye for that single move, having managed to anticipate and defend himself from the punch the first time.

"Oryaah!"

…and a second time.

Hopefully, he wouldn't have to worry about a third time.

Seconds had turned to minutes. The minutes continued to pass.

Showing hints of irritation, Paul lunged forward with an elbow aimed for the sternum, which Kazuya deftly stepped back to avoid the blow. Continuing his momentum, Paul pressed forward with a quick, succession of lefts and rights, each of them either blocked or parried by his opponent. Paul feinted low with his left foot, causing Kazuya to flinch. Seizing that moment, Paul raised his right arm for an overhead chop, then thrusted his right fist out for a shorter, quicker variation of his Death Fist. Luckily for Kazuya, he was familiar with some of Paul's old tricks, and recovered enough to block the initial attack, then hopped back just enough to avoid the incoming punch.

Now it was his turn.

"Dooryah!" Kazuya bellowed, crouching low, stepping forward, and throwing his right fist into an uppercut, all in a blink of an eye. Wind God Fist, the second of Mishima Karate's signature moves. Few moves match its versatility, fewer practitioners of the art execute it as quickly as Kazuya himself, a fact that he took great pride in.

Paul was able to put up his defenses quickly to avoid taking the brunt of the uppercut. The force from its momentum, however, meant that the American found himself pushed backwards upon impact, his defenses momentarily broken.

"****!" he swore under his breath, finding himself on the defensive as Kazuya stepped forward with his right arm extended. Despite its slow execution, Paul felt his forearm grow sore as Kazuya's blow collided with the hot blooded American's raised right arm. "Not bad," Paul muttered.

Kazuya answered the compliment with a pair of successive kicks with the right leg, the first with his leg extended almost vertically in the air, the second dropping a bone crunching heel aimed at the collarbone. Paul naturally blocked them both, albeit not without some effort on his part. For lack of a better word, 'they hurt like a *****'.

"If that's how you wanna play it," Paul snorted, thumbing his nose, "then bring it!"

The former G-Corporation clenched his fist till his knuckles cracked. Then, wordlessly, he raised his right arm and threw out a strong punch, the trajectory of the blow towards the man's head. Simultaneously, Paul also raised his right arm and threw out a punch of his own, fueled equally with power and red hot anger behind the intended blow.

Both fists sailed towards their intended target and collided with each other…

* * *

"_I may have granted him access to much of the company's resources, but I still have all my contingencies set… and I can cut him off at any time I wish_."

The master of Soleil waited while the doctor absorbed his words. "Yes… of course," Kalina nodded and continued her work.

"_Though he may attempt to use us for his own purposes_," the voice in the chamber continued, "_the truth of the matter is that in the end, he has very little control… and he knows it_." The master chuckled quietly at the thought. "_He simply has no idea just how little power he really has_."

* * *

The clock continued to move forward, and the crowd continued to cheer.

Paul and Kazuya knelt on one knee, both men gasping for breath.

_Fighting that stupid bear was never this difficult_, Paul thought to himself.

Several meters away from the hot blooded American, Kazuya glared at his opponent, slowly picking himself back up. The former G-Corporation CEO let out an audible snarl, his expression a visage of hatred and contempt.

"What the **** are you angry about!" Paul hissed, getting back onto his feet without brushing himself. "I have no time to fool around with the likes of you!" he added, pointing a defiant finger at Kazuya.

The former G-Corporation CEO snorted at the American. "Good," he said, wiping his lower lip with the back of his hand before stepping into his fighting stance. "Neither do I."

In a loud cry, both men lunged at each other. The onlookers roared in jubilation as fists collided once again.

* * *

Kalina's eyes were fixed on the monitors, though her attention still remained on the conversation.

"_And as for Jin, you are concerned that my temporary removal of his seal during his match against Eddy Gordo was the cause of our latest problems with Hanako, correct?_"

The doctor's silence was all the master needed to know.

"_Again, a very trivial matter_," was the answer. "_Jin continues to cling to the belief that he is truly 'evil', and that redemption is beyond him. As long as he holds to those beliefs, his influence would merely be limited to dreams and the occasional… bouts of rage. He will never undermine my plans. And as for Hanako… though she had shown much stubbornness against my influence, especially as of recently, she will ultimately be under my complete control… so long as you continue to follow my directions_."

The doctor stepped aside from her work for a moment and glanced up at the figure within the bubbling capsule.

"You need not worry about me," Dr. Romov said. "I will follow your directions faithfully and loyally, and will continue to do your bidding so long as you allow me the privilege to do so."

"_I do not doubt this at all, which was one of the reasons why I had chosen you to head up this project_," the master said. A momentary pause later, "_However… you still don't seem convinced of my power_."

"Apologies," Kalina looked away shamefully. "Given the chaos of last night, and the setbacks of Hanako's completion, I… I apologize for my lack of faith."

"_Hmm_…"

Another momentary pause, the eerie silence causing even the normally calm and collected scientist to feel nervous.

"_Very well_."

Kalina tilted her head slightly to the side. "Master?" she asked in confusion.

"_I will extend my malevolence further and prove to you my wisdom_," the master declared. "_If my words do not fully convince you, then perhaps my action will put your mind at ease_."

"That isn't necessary…"

"_Oh, but it is_," the master insisted. "_Of all my subjects, you have been the most devout of them all… and at this critical juncture, I cannot have my most devout servant falter in her faith. All I ask of you is your continued loyalty… and your patience_."

* * *

"Aw, ****!" Bruce exclaimed, watching a live feed of the Kazuya/Paul match over Kyuuto's shoulder.

Moments ago, Kazuya and Paul took a simultaneous punch to the side of their heads, causing both men to reel in shock.

"Man, I knew that white boy had some moves, but this is ridiculous! And, you!" Bruce hollered at the businessman. "Your company still needs to fix this connection on my phone!"

Kyuuto rubbed his temples, sorely tempted to pour himself some hard liquor to drink. Anna, in the meantime, stood idly by the computer screen, silently watching the match as the image of Kazuya and Paul continued their exchange of brutality.

* * *

"Oh… oh, that has to sting a little…" Takeda grimaced at the live feed of Kazuya and Paul's match on the television screen.

Mere moments ago the Manji ninja watched the fighters briefly exchanged a flurry of kicks and fists before Paul took the brunt end of a Kazuya backhand. Not one to be outdone, Paul returned the favor with a left jab to the jaw.

"Alright, that's ok, that's ok," Takeda clasped his hands together, sitting on the edge of his seat. "Lucky shot, you've had far worse in the past. Come on now, show me what you got, baby!"

* * *

Kazuya shrugged off the hit with a swipe of his hand, and came at his opponent with a quick left jab. Paul deflected the move and countered with a right hand. Kazuya stepped away from the blow and thrust out his hand aimed for the torso. The hot blooded American read the move and, swaying his body back, snapped his body forward and lead in with a left forearm. Kazuya blocked…

* * *

"Come on, Kazuya, come on…" Bruce muttered.

* * *

"Nice block, nice block!" Takeda shouted.

* * *

… and countered with a quick, yet strong punch to the sternum. Paul raised his arm to block the incoming fist and followed up with a low kick.

* * *

"Watch it, watch it!" Bruce hollered at the screen, while Anna watched nervously.

* * *

"Watch it, watch it, watch it!" Takeda shouted.

* * *

Kazuya reacted, lifting his leg to block the offending kick…

* * *

"Nice one, boss!" Bruce pumped his fist.

* * *

"Good eye, man!" Takeda exclaimed. "Use those feet!"

* * *

…and lifted his right leg for a kick of his own aimed at the shins. Paul quickly took a step back with his left leg to avoid the kick and continued the exchange with a thrust of his forearm.

* * *

"Hey, hey, hey, what the heck, man?" Takeda raised his voice in exasperation. Close to the very edge of his seat, he leaned his face forward and clenched at the armrests while the battle on screen continued to unfold.

"That's it, that's it!" Takeda continued to rave, trembling with excitement. "What… watch it, watch it! Ho, close one! Come on, he's open, aim for the gut, aim for the – what, no, no, no, no, no! You had him! He was open you – watch the feet! Oh, nice one!" Takeda pumped his fists in the air and slammed his palms against the armrests. "You hit him! Left! Right! Left! Right! Good job! Keep the pressure on, keep the pressure – whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, where did that come from!"

* * *

"Really, where the hell did that move come from!" Bruce leaned back exasperated, causing Kyuuto to yelp. "Duck, boss man, duck!"

* * *

The blue haired ninja watched as Paul quickly recovered from Kazuya's blow and countered with an elbow to the chest, knocking the former G-Corporation CEO hard onto his back.

* * *

"No, no, no, no, no – not good, not good at all!" Takeda blubbered, reaching his hand towards a bag of chips and stuffing the snacks into his mouth. "Get up, get up, get up – aw, man!" he slammed his hands down on the armrests and gripped them tightly.

* * *

"Roll away, man, roll away!" Bruce hollered. "Good, good… get back to your feet! Get back – wait, duck again!"

* * *

Takeda flinched just as Kazuya swayed his head just enough to avoid taking another fist directly to the jaw. Instincts kicking in, Kazuya quickly seized that brief opening to deliver a straight punch to the midsection.

* * *

"Booyah!" Bruce jumped.

* * *

"Bam! That's how you do it!" Takeda exclaimed, jumping out of his seat triumphantly.

* * *

"Alright, let's do this!" Bruce rubbed his hands and leaned forward.

* * *

"Finish the guy! Finish hi – what, what are you doing, man!" the ninja screamed with his hands on his head as an exhausted Kazuya sluggishly missed his chance and found himself on the defensive end of an equally sluggish Paul onslaught. Given the amount of energy both men poured into the fight, and the fact that both opponents managed to chip away at each other's armor were completely inconsequential to the blue haired ninja.

* * *

"Oh ****…" Bruce swore under his breath. "No, no, no, no, no, not good, not good…"

Anna wanted to walk away from the screen, yet she couldn't look away.

* * *

"What – are – you – doing!" he hollered again, emphasizing each word with a stomp of his foot. "Watch out, watch – arrrrrrrgh!" he roared, covering his face shamefully with his hands.

"What are you screaming for – "

"He's losing, Minamoto, our ******* meal ticket is losing!" Takeda hollered, grabbing the bewildered kunoichi by the shoulders and shaking her roughly. "We'll be ******* broke if the bastard loses! Oh, and glad you're looking better… I think."

Minamoto blinked at the man, and shoved him back hard on his rump.

* * *

Many more minutes had passed, yet everyone, especially the combatants, paid no heed of the time…

Kazuya grumbled under his breath. The good news, he managed to avoid taking any of Paul's strongest attacks. The bad news, he ended up absorbing many of Paul's lesser attacks.

More good news, Paul was in no better shape than him, having also taken many of Kazuya's lesser attacks. The bad news, one small slip up on Kazuya's part, and now he found himself on the receiving end of Paul's offensive.

_CRACK!_

Kazuya felt his defenses start to crumble as he took a glancing shot at the side of his abdomen. He staggered to the side, then quickly recovered just in time to block an overhead chop to the shoulder.

_CRUNCH!_

Unfortunately, that meant leaving his midsection open, allowing an elbow to pass through.

Sensing momentum shifting towards his favor, Paul leapt into the air and delivered two quick kicks to the upper torso. Though slower in execution than Paul would have liked, he was satisfied with the fact that they still managed to break through his opponent's defenses, which was all he wanted to do. Now he had options.

_CRUNCH!_

Paul quickly delivered a crushing overhead chop to his hapless opponent, momentarily stunning him. He quickly followed up with a short, quick sweep of the right leg, causing Kazuya to stagger in his balance. Finally, rearing his right arm back, the judo practitioner stepped forward and delivered a hard right fist to the torso.

"Oryah!"

_CRUNCH!_

Kazuya counted his blessings as he raised his arm just in time to block the brunt of the move, cushioning the blow from the quick Death Fist that followed. While not the full punch that he was normally accustomed to seeing, it was still potent enough to knock him out, especially under his current condition. It was the one silver lining he had as Kazuya felt himself knocked hard onto his back and skidding along the ground.

Meanwhile, the crowd were up in their feet, some of them on edge, others chanting Paul's name. Taking a brief moment to catch his breath, Paul strode ominously towards his opponent, his face contorted with pent up rage. For the hot blooded American, the self proclaimed greatest fighter in the whole universe, this was not the time to acknowledge his fans. He had a mission to fulfill, and having come so far in the tournament, failure was not an option…

Kazuya managed to lumber back on his feet. Wiping the trickle of blood from his lip, the Mishima Karate master stepped into his fighting stance, maintaining some semblance of balance on his footing…

…and found himself nearly toppling over as Paul charged straight at the former G-Corporation CEO with a shoulder ram. Clumsily, Kazuya flailed with his left hand. Paul caught the limb by the fist and grabbed a hold of the outstretched arm with both hands. Immediately, Paul planted both feet on his opponent's chest and twisted himself around the outstretched limb until the judo fighter was facing the ground. With his hands still holding the karate fighter's arm firm, Paul utilized his bodyweight to lower his body to the ground and roll onto his back. The momentum of the move with hands around the outstretched arm and feet placed firmly on the chest caused Kazuya's body to be lifted into the air and, upon Paul's release, thrown several feet away and land onto his back in a supine position.

Kazuya felt the wind knocked out of him, his body screaming from the exertion. Luckily for him, however, that very throw Paul used also took a lot of energy out of him, causing the judo fighter to stumble onto his hands and knees. The momentum was still in Paul's favor, but now he had to finish the match quickly. Any further effort on his part, even if he would win the match, would mean losing any chance to find Marshall in this accursed place… and after numerous battles against one giant grizzly named 'Kuma', he knew firsthand what it was like to bow out of a competition due to a little 'technicality' such as exhaustion.

He could not afford another battle of attrition. Not when he was this close…

With the crowd cheering behind him, Paul scrambled back to his feet. Clenching his right fist, the judo fighter stood square towards his downed opponent, legs rampart, and held his arms up into his fighting stance. Gathering his remaining strength, he focused his power to his right fist, and reared back, preparing to strike.

The Death Fist to end all Death Fists…

Meanwhile, still dazed from the throw, Kazuya stumbled warily back to his feet, unaware of the impending doom mere meters away.

"It's over, *****!" Paul grunted.

Like a rampaging bull, Paul took one determined step forward and, with his right arm snapped to full extension, charged forward towards victory.

* * *

"Man, I can't look," Bruce muttered to himself, looking away from the monitor.

Anna clasped her hands against her mouth, holding her breath for the worst.

* * *

"Man, I can't look," Takeda muttered to himself, looking away from the television screen.

Minamoto rolled her eyes and quietly watched the aftermath…

* * *

The dust gathered around the combatants in the ring as Paul felt his fist make solid contact. The judo fighter flinched and looked away to avoid getting dirt into his eyes.

Unfortunately… when the dust settled… that was a big mistake.

_CRACK!_

"Yeargh!" Paul screamed, as Kazuya crushed his opponent's fist in his hand.

"_Now_… it is over," Kazuya growled.

The American didn't even have time to react, not even in shock, as he felt a fist land squarely below his jaw, lifting him hard off his feet.

"Errrrrrryaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" Kazuya bellowed, his left arm fully extended, throwing every ounce of strength towards his legs and his fist as he leapt to the air to deliver the most infamous of Mishima Karate techniques, the uppercut to end all uppercuts: the Thunder God Fist.

As Paul felt his body spiral uncontrollably to the ground, all the pain was quickly erased from memory, his face numb of all feeling. His mind, however, was a flurry of thoughts and emotions. At first, he was confused. Then, he was furious, cursing his fate. Finally, when everything settled, he had only one thought as he landed neck first onto the ring in a resounding thud…

_Forrest… Marshall… I'm sorry…_

"The winner!"

Kazuya collapsed on his knees, though he tried his best not to show his weakness as he looked down on his fallen opponent with the crowd cheering behind him.

"Kazuya! Kazuya! Kazuya! Kazuya!"

Willing himself back to his feet, he slowly ambled his way towards the exit, tuning out the crowd as he walked away from the fight victorious.

* * *

"OK, the boss is really cutting it close that time," Bruce said, stepping away from Kyuuto's desk, and absentmindedly grabbed a glass for a drink.

Anna quietly gazed at the image of Kazuya walking out of the ring, in her mind thankful that her employer managed to win by what appeared to be the slimmest of margins. Sitting uncomfortably in his seat, Kyuuto merely watched the two warily while absentmindedly tapping his fingers on an empty glass.

"Well, now that that's over…" Bruce stretched his arms and jumped back onto the couch. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"Is it just me, or have you become an even bigger *** as of late?" Anna sighed.

"Hey, I'm just glad the boss is alright," Bruce waved his hands. "As soon as I get my reception back, I – oh, hello," he grinned, as his phone rang a melodic tune. "Excuse me," he said, jumping out of the couch and walked towards the doorway of the office.

* * *

"Holy ****, that was amazing!" Takeda yelped excitedly, much to Kazuya's chagrin. "My gosh, you pulled that punch in the last minute, and 'wham'! Down like the broom headed chump he is! Yup, I knew you were gonna pull through. Never doubted you for a second."

Minamoto smacked her forehead with a resounding slap. Kazuya, sitting against one of the leather sofas with his eyes closed, wanted to hit the ninja badly, but found himself too exhausted at the moment to lift a finger.

"What have you called me here that was so… urgent?" Kazuya groaned.

"You owe me one naked girl," Takeda answered.

Minamoto slapped her partner on the back of his head. Kazuya, lulling his head against the backrest, wanted to thank the kunoichi, but found himself too exhausted at the moment to wiggle a toe.

"Fine, fine," Takeda sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "I'd have called you sooner, but you were busy wrestling with that gay biker down there when I found out."

Kazuya raised an eyebrow at the ninja's claim and shifted his eyes warily at the kunoichi. "Found out?"

"Yes," Minamoto sighed. "As difficult as it is to believe, he did make the discovery."

Takeda huffed at the two. Kazuya and Minamoto merely shrugged.

"Once more, we couldn't make heads or tails of anything within all that crap," Takeda continued. "Symbols, numbers, all that scientific bull and witchcraft ****, but within the recordings that Minamoto made, I found something very interesting."

* * *

"Uh huh… uh huh…" Bruce nodded quietly while speaking over his cell phone.

"Can you two leave now?" Kyuuto whimpered.

The Irish woman leaned forward against the desk, showing off her ample cleavage, and mustered the most pleasant smile she could give.

"We can't leave you alone, and you can't leave your office at the moment," Anna reminded the executive. "Especially after last night's operation, the old man might do something, uh, terrible and disgusting to your sorry ***. It's just a matter of when."

* * *

Kazuya stared at the images blankly in disbelief, then reread the data on the disk.

_This cannot be…_

"Kazuya… where are they now?" Takeda asked, his face completely serious as he spoke.

The former G-Corporation president stared at the ninja savagely.

"Where are they?" Takeda repeated. "We need to warn them. Now."

Without saying a word, Kazuya jumped out of his seat, forgetting that his body was still exhausted from the match, and scampered out of his suite. Hurriedly, Takeda followed him behind, holstering his Berettas.

"Minamoto, keep watch," he ordered.

* * *

The sound of a second cell phone chimed, interrupting the brunette's conversation.

"Excuse me," Anna said, and picked up her phone. "Hello?"

* * *

"Listen to me closely," Kazuya said, walking at a brisk pace down the hall. "Take that useless executive and leave."

* * *

"Go where – "

* * *

"Is Bruce with you?" Kazuya asked.

* * *

"Yeah, he's still here, busy talking with some hot chica over the phone," Anna replied. "What about it?"

* * *

"Eliminate Bruce," Kazuya merely said.

* * *

"Wait, wait… what?" Anna asked in an exasperated tone. "What are you talking about?"

* * *

"He is not what he seems," Kazuya said. "Eliminate him, get as far away from that office with that executive, and – "

* * *

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mishima, sir!" Bruce said over the phone. "Our resident psycho slut is currently unavailable. But if you leave a message, they will get back to you as soon as possible."

Before Kazuya could respond, Bruce dropped the phone on the ground, and crushed it under his heel.

* * *

"Bruce… Bruce!" Kazuya hollered angrily, and ran through the hall in a mad sprint.

* * *

Leaning over to the now unconscious brunette, he brushed a finger against the side of her cheek and sighed.

"Sorry 'bout that, Anna baby," the kick boxer said. "Nothing personal, but… master's orders."

Slowly standing back to his feet, Bruce averted his gaze from the unconscious brunette to the trembling executive whimpering in his seat.

"Now," Bruce gave him a toothy grin while cracking his knuckles. "You and I have some words before I toss your *** out that window."


	26. Stage 25

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Interlude_

Days before the start of the second Iron Fist Tournament, an injured Bruce Irvin leaned against a filthy… wall… fence… or something in what appeared to be a city… or town… or village… he wasn't so sure. The kick boxer wasn't even sure how he got here in the first place. Bruce could only recall bits and pieces of the ordeal… a large group of people, an apparent scuffle, and fire…

_Not good…_

The injured American felt his consciousness begin to fade. Given the amount of burns and the extensive bleeding throughout his body, it was a miracle he was even alive, let alone standing (albeit barely).

…and even _that_ is starting to fade.

_Not… good at all…_

As the world around him turned fuzzy, he caught a brief glimpse of a group of men in black… as far as he could tell anyways… suddenly appear within his peripheral. Then his visions faded to black…

* * *

"I must hand it to you, you are much more tougher than I thought."

Bruce awoke to the sight of white light and the heavy scent of sterilization. He lifted his arm to his eyes, and found the effort it took rather difficult. Licking his dried lips, he asked, "Where am I?"

There was a brief moment of silence as the man in… purple, from Bruce's hazy perspective, rolled the question in his mind, deciding the best way to answer his question.

"You, Mr. Irvin, are in one of Mishima Zaibatsu's private hospitals," the man answered in one smooth, chilling voice.

"Mr. Irvin…" Bruce muttered the surname to himself, as though uttering a name of a stranger. In fact, the kick boxer only came to the sudden realization that he had no recollection of his own name or much of his past. That realization did not escape the attention of the man in purple.

"You don't remember who you are," the man said in a sibilant tone of voice. Bruce shook his head warily. "Do you know who I am?"

"Uh…" Bruce groaned. Rubbing his eyes slowly with the palm of his left hand, he gently turned his head towards the man in purple and looked him straight in the eye. "No… no, not really… but how do you manage to keep that do up so nice and slick?" Bruce added, gesturing at the man's head of jet black hair, slickly brushed back into a point.

The man in purple furrowed his brow.

"Hey, I'm – I'm – uh – wasn't… dissin' you," Bruce waved his hands in surrender. "Just… y'know… thought it was kinda cool."

"Kazuya Mishima."

"Come again?"

"My name," Kazuya said.

"Oh, of course," Bruce nodded. "An' I'm 'Mr. Irvin'."

"Bruce Irvin."

"_Bruce_ Irvin, thank you," the kick boxer said. "Nice to meet you, _Kazuya Mishima_."

"Hmm."

At least the kick boxer had a name to go by, he thought to himself, though the lack of memories made him feel… funky? Weird? Vocabulary apparently wasn't his strong suit. He turned away from Kazuya and stared at the ceiling.

Meanwhile, Kazuya turned his head slightly to the side and gestured with a slight nod. Quietly, the sounds of footsteps marched out of the room and closed the door behind.

"Don't sound like doctors to me," Bruce remarked. "Wasn't looking, but it sounded like there were three of them there waiting near that door."

Kazuya angled his head at the American lying on the bed.

"Heh, I must be one dangerous mother ****** if they still be waitin' outside," Bruce added.

"How observant," Kazuya smiled slyly.

"Am I a dangerous ******?" Bruce asked, suddenly feeling a little cocky.

"Indeed," Kazuya agreed. "Which is another reason why your life was saved."

"Oh?" Bruce quirked his head. "What are the other reasons?"

"You are undoubtedly strong," Kazuya said without answering the question. "My company could use a man of your… exceptional talents."

"Talents?"

"Your fighting background," Kazuya explained. "Though I wish for the business to grow and prosper for the, uh… _benefit_ of mankind, I have many enemies who wish to see what I have worked to achieve crumble to ash." Kazuya gave Bruce another sly look. "Some, I dare say, wish me dead."

Bruce gave Kazuya an odd look. "Wait, so… you want me to be your bodyguard?"

"'Bodyguard' sounds unrefined… I prefer to use a more formal title, such as 'chief of special forces unit'," Kazuya replied.

"And what makes you think I'd make a good 'chief of special forces unit'? I mean – heh – my head got all busted up and all."

"You may have lost your memories, but something tells me you haven't lost your fighting skills," Kazuya said. "Your senses are sharp. Without relying on sight, you knew the number of people in the room, the kind of men who were watching. You are probably able to hear the men outside the room – "

"Yeah, you need to tell twisty to lay off the sake, and… what the hell does baldy have against fried chicken and ginger beer?"

"And most important, you not only survived a… mishap… that killed hundreds of people, but from where the physicians stand, your body is well into full recovery. And then there is that… feeling."

Surprisingly, Bruce understood precisely what Kazuya was referring to. That incredible sensation, that indescribable rush, the excitement… in a fight. The more the man in the purple suit spoke, the more his fighting instincts resurfaced…

"Think it over, Mr. Irvin," Kazuya walked towards the door. "Work for me, and we will reap the world."

* * *

_Stage 25_

Kazuya never liked his father much. As far as he was concerned, Heihachi Mishima was an old man who needed to be put to pasture long, long ago. However, amongst the many things his father did taught him when he was young, this still resonated in his mind.

_Immovable as a mountain! Powerful as the roaring seas! A Mishima is a symbol of strength! A Mishima has no weakness! You are a Mishima!_

"Kazuya!" Takeda exclaimed. "Kazuya, wait up!"

_Never become attached to your pawns! They are merely tools for your use!_

"Kazuya, sir, I know you hate listening to my voice sometimes, but I think you need to slow down just a notch and listen," Takeda pleaded.

_Attachment only brings weakness! And a Mishima with weakness is no MIshima at all!_

"Kazuya? Kazuya!"

_Sentiment will one day be your undoing…_

"Yearrrrrrrrrrrrgh!"

Suddenly, Kazuya felt the sensation of a million discharges coursing through his body, its excruciating torment causing every pain receptor to scream in raucous unison. Every instinct told him he had to move, but the signals from his brain could not transmit to the muscles in his legs.

"I… I… uh…" Takeda waved his hands. "It's… it's the security you mentioned… you know, the one that keeps your kind off or something like that? Yeah, this is awkward."

Quickly, the blue haired ninja grabbed the former G Corporation CEO by the arm and tugged him away from the heavily warded space. Immediately, Kazuya collapsed on the floor, throwing himself into a hysterical coughing fit.

"I think it's safe to say the old bastard is watching," Takeda said.

The moment the words left the ninja's mouth, three marionettes ominously appeared and surrounded the men.

"The deal was you keep those robed freaks off my back," Takeda muttered.

"You have yet to fix my sneakers," Kazuya groaned, wiping the sweat from his brow.

The blue haired ninja looked at his employer aghast and stepped into his fighting stance, pistols at the ready. "You know, you really need to stop acting so childish."

* * *

Kyuuto sat glued to his seat terrified while Bruce slowly paced left and right on the fine carpet.

"You know, before I chuck you out the window like that piece of trash you are, I am very curious," the kick boxer said. "The master kept you around not just for your, you know, management skills, the money thing, and all that ****, but he kept you because he liked the fact that you are… uh… how should I put this politely…"

Kyuuto's frantic eyes remained fixed on Bruce as the kick boxer tapped his finger on his chin in mock ponderance.

"Uh… chicken? No, too weak. Uh… *** kisser? Maybe not… The point is, for a big, big, BIG man like you, and I mean, _damn_, you huge… you lack nuts. There, I said it." Bruce slammed his hands on the desk, causing the office to shake. "You got nothin' hangin' down there. So why you doin' this to us?"

The businessman swallowed hard… and found he couldn't swallow the lump at all.

"I can't hear you?" Bruce leaned menacingly forward.

Kyuuto was in a complete state of panic, screaming at his brain to at least open his mouth lest he end up choking on his own spit.

"Answer me!" Bruce slammed the desk again, this time causing the surface to crack.

"I… I… I…"

"Why you actin' like suddenly grew a set down there!" Bruce hollered.

"I… I just…"

"If it's about the money, the master woulda paid you infinitely more than whatever that pointy haired ****, Kazuya would, bless that punk ***' heart, and that don't even include the benefits!" With a grand swing of his arms, Bruce lifted the desk off the ground and slammed it against the wall. "Health care, dental care, life insurance, car insurance, golf club, book club, wine club, hair club, weight loss club (though you're more likely to kill the buffet instead, still part of the package though), _and_ immortality!" The kick boxer wrapped his fingers around the businessman's collar and lifted him off his feet. "So what is it?" Bruce lowered his voice. "Why you actin' the chump?"

"Huh… hhhh…. Hah…"

"I… I'm sorry, I don't speak wuss," Bruce shook his head distastefully. "Translation?"

Kyuuto mustered all his strength and all his will to his vocal cords and looked his soon-to-be executioner in the eye. "Because many will die."

Bruce, taken aback by the answer, glanced from side to side. "Excuse me!"

"The whole… world… will die… and I don't want to – "

"No, don't give me that bull****!" Bruce, flicking his free hand, whined at the businessman's answer. "You grew a conscience! Seriously?" Kyuuto looked at his captor without uttering a word. "I… I'm disappointed." Bruce unceremoniously dropped the man on the ground. "Of all things, I don't think even the master would've predicted this. Really? You worked behind the back with… heh… Kazuya, of all peeps… really, you could have gone to that saiyajin boyscout, Lars, yet you went with the _Diablo_ pimp… and all this out of… out of… " Bruce pretended to make choking noises as he uttered the word, "c-c-c-c-c-consciousness!"

Kyuuto slowly began to crawl away while Bruce continued to be lost in his rant.

"Unbelievable," Bruce raised his hands to the air. "A businessman… nutless businessman… grows… a _conscience_…"

_CRUNCH!_

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Kyuuto screamed.

"Uh-uh… we ain't done," Bruce said, grinding his heel on the businessman's hand. Lifting the man off his feet, the kick boxer slammed him hard against the wall. Kyuuto's body flopped and tumbled onto the broken remains of his desk.

"Please…" Kyuuto wheezed in pain.

"At first, I thought I be satisfied just chuckin' your fat *** out the window, but that's too good for ya," Bruce threatened. "No… for you, we need some good quality time."

"Hey, Brucie," said a voice from behind.

"Huh?"

_CRACK!_

"Just so you should know," Anna seethed, holding the shattered remains of a lamp in her hand. "We ain't done, either."

_

* * *

Immovable as a mountain! Powerful as the roaring seas!_

Focusing his strength into his right fist, Kazuya stepped forward until he was bent on one knee, and swung his right arm into a single, powerful haymaker aimed squarely for the abdomen. He heard the sound of wood cracking under his might as the marionette's body was sent flying across the hall.

"Down!" Takeda hollered. Kazuya quickly ducked. The blue haired ninja unleashed hell. Wood splinters flew from their bodies, their movements slowed as bullet after bullet hit their mark. Bullets to the elbows, bullets to the shoulders, bullets to the knees, little by little the puppets were torn apart by gunfire. Before the ninja could celebrate, however, more marionettes appear to replace the ones destroyed.

"We need to find another way!" Takeda yelled.

"Tell me something I don't know," Kazuya grunted under his breath. "Do you still have the layout of the building!"

Without uttering a word (which the former G Corporation CEO was stunned to see), the Manji agent pulled out a small tablet device from his pocket.

"Huh…"

"Is there another way to the office?" Kazuya snarled.

"Technically there is," Takeda answered.

"Get down!"

Reacting to his employer's words, the ninja ducked just enough to avoid getting incinerated by a white flash of light. The only damage was the ends of a few strands of hair. Takeda quickly reloaded his pistols while Kazuya leapt to the air and, extending his left leg, kicked the head off one of the marionettes. Without stopping, Kazuya immediately swayed his head to avoid an incoming punch, grabbed the offending limb, and tossed the marionette towards the blue haired ninja.

"Come to papa…" Takeda licked his lips.

Catching the wooden puppet in midair, Takeda quickly slammed the marionette on its back with a seemingly normal shoulder throw. Then, in an unusual move, while the wooden body had still not fully fallen to the ground, the blue haired ninja simultaneously extended both arms into a strike at the midsection… and pulled the trigger on both pistols.

_BOOM!_

The impact of both fist and bullet sent the marionette skidding on its back several feet along the ground, plowing straight into another pair of hapless marionettes.

"Impressive," Kazuya said, noting the scorch marks on the ground.

"Neat little move I picked up along the way, thank you very much," Takeda proudly replied, blowing the smoke from his Berettas.

"And you may continue to gloat in your only spotlight after you tell me where this 'technically' other way to the office is," Kazuya reminded the ninja brazenly.

"Man, can't even give a man a couple of seconds to enjoy himself," the Manji agent sighed. "If we can first clear the way behind us, we can begin – "

The former G Corporation CEO quickly attacked the first marionette he came across before the ninja could finish his sentence.

"Uh… I'll be right with you," Takeda murmured sheepishly.

* * *

Anna felt blood trickle on her forehead, courtesy of a sneak attack via blunt object to the skull by Bruce. Regardless of the pain she felt, the Irish woman still fought on, fighting the wave of dizziness as well as keeping her emotions in check. Given the circumstances, Anna was understandably a baggage of emotions, her mind constantly asking the same question over and over: 'why'.

Bruce, on the other hand, couldn't give a damn about the Irish woman, save that she was in the way of the master's business. A fact the kick boxer promptly reminded the woman via a knee to the stomach.

"Stay down, slut," Bruce said, adding an elbow to the back of the head for good measure.

Anna hit the floor with a resounding thud. She had been called slut many times in her life, most of them from Nina. On certain occasions, Bruce would even let the word slip out of his mouth, though usually out of jest. This time, however, was more hurtful than others, especially since Bruce actually meant it this time. That stung far worse than any blows to the head.

Shocked, confused, and hurt, Anna reacted the only way she knew how. Fighting against the numbing pain in her head, she spun her legs around to trip the kick boxer to his back, then, mounting him, began pummeling the man's face. For anyone else, even against an injured Anna, it would be considered the beating of his life.

Bruce, however, had other ideas.

"That it?" Bruce, catching the Irish woman's hands, said with mild disappointment in his voice. Immediately, he reversed Anna's mount, pinning the woman down with his larger, heavier frame, and slapped her hard in the face. "This is how it's done, *****!" he hollered, throwing another slap for added insult.

And another slap.

And then another…

And another…

Anna wasn't sure which hurt more, the pounding headache caused by the continuous slaps to the face, or Bruce calling her a *****. Then the kick boxer elevated his beating from slaps to punches. Now, Anna felt too dazed to even remember she was hurting.

_THUNK!_

The kick boxer stopped and looked at his back in confusion, and found a knife protruding behind his shoulder.

"Well, this is embarrassing," Bruce seethed, pulling himself off of Anna and averted his gaze towards Kyuuto. "You of all people managed to sneak up on me like that," he added, pulling the knife off his shoulder. "Th-that ain't cool."

Before the businessman could react, Bruce grabbed him by the throat and pinned him against the wall. Pointing the knife threateningly in front of the businessman's eyes, the kick boxer clenched his hands harder until Kyuuto's face turned beet red.

"You tryin' to be a hero?" Bruce said. Kyuuto could only respond in small gasps. "Big mistake."

Angrily, the kick boxer tossed the businessman to the ground, and stomped on his right hand.

_CRUNCH!_

"Yeargh!" Kyuuto yelped, writhing under intense pain.

"Quit your whining," Bruce responded. Rubbing his nose with a swipe of his hand, he added, "Might as well finish our little business here."

Pinning the man's body, Bruce twirled the knife in his hand and flicked the blade over Kyuuto's throat.

"I can't decide which I will enjoy more," the kick boxer licked his lips. "Tossing your fat *** out the window, or gutting you like a fish. Both choices have their charm."

"P-please…" Kyuuto gasped, his eyes darting from his captor to the window. "Please don't…"

"What!" Bruce spat. "Kill you! We are way past that, boy!"

Slowly, Bruce glided the flat side of the blade across the man's throat, then slid the blade gradually towards his ear.

"I will let you choose," the kick boxer tilted his head. "Left or right."

"What?"

"You get to pick which ear to keep," Bruce stated flatly. "So which is it? Left one or right one?"

Kyuuto merely stared pale face at the dark skinned American looming over him.

"Listen, you take too long to decide, I cut _both_ of them off," Bruce added with emphasis. "And if that's not enough motivation, I might get a wee bit bored and start cutting off your fingers as well. So, again, left or right?"

"How about neither," a voice said from behind.

_THUNK!_

"Look, honey, that trick only worked the first time," Bruce chided, his left forearm raised to block a pole wielding Anna.

"Huh," Anna shrugged. "I guess you're not as big a dummy as you look."

Bruce shoved the metal pole off his arm and quickly jumped back to his feet. Stepping purposely towards the brunette, he delivered two successive punches with his left and right, then leapt forward with his right knee towards the sternum. Anna, in spite of her dizziness, managed to avoid the first two blows, and managed to lift her hands to block the intruding knee. Continuing to apply pressure, Bruce swung his left fist at her head, and followed up with a succession of elbows and knees, forcing the woman backwards. In the relatively small confines of the office, Anna soon found herself backed up against one of the couches in the middle of the room, and nearly fell over. Seizing the opportunity, Bruce lunged forward with his right elbow towards the woman's chest. While Anna still managed to block the limb, she now found herself pinned with a forearm mere inches from her throat.

"Is that the best insult you can think of?" Bruce snickered.

Struggling against the man's weight, Anna looked at the man straight in the eye, her face contorted with renewed fury. "If you were Bruce… why don't you bleed?" Anna gasped, gesturing slightly to the mark left by Kyuuto's knife. Bruce was slightly taken aback by the statement, giving the Irish woman a slight opening to knee the kick boxer in the crotch. The kick boxer doubled over ("Didn't think you felt that," Anna thought), allowing Anna to follow up with an open palm to the jaw.

_CRACK!_

Bruce's body flew back and hit the carpeted floor hard.

"This is for impersonating my friend, dummy," Anna seethed, driving her heel hard on his chest… causing wooden splinters to appear.

"Heh…" Bruce… or rather the marionette imitating Bruce wheezed. "You're not as dumb as you look, slut."

"Shut up," Anna seethed, and delivered another stomp, this time aimed for the face.

_

* * *

A Mishima is a symbol of strength! A Mishima has no weakness!_

Kazuya doubled over as the marionette landed a blow to the midsection. Spinning clockwise (literally) on its waist, the wooden puppet fully extended its right arm to deliver a backhand across the side of Kazuya's face. The former G-Corporation CEO spun from the blow and landed on his side with a loud thud. The marionette hovered over the former King of Iron Fist, its eyes emitting a blazing white aura.

_BANG!_

One gunshot to the forehead later, the marionette's head jerked back from the bullet's impact, causing the wooden puppet to overshoot its intended target. Landing in front of the marionette, Takeda spun on his feet like a whirring top, landing successive blows with every rotation. On his final rotation, Takeda extended his right leg and jerked it upwards, his heel landing squarely under the marionette's jaw. The head of the puppet shattered as its body flew upwards and bounced off the ceiling before crashing back to the ground.

"You alright?" Takeda asked, absently offering his hand to help Kazuya back on his feet. The former G-Corporation CEO ignored the Manji agent's help, getting on his hands and knees and lifting himself off the ground. The blue haired man merely shrugged, and surveyed his surroundings.

"You said there was an alternate route," Kazuya said with disgust. "Yet all you have done is sent us running in circles!"

"Actually, Kazuya, we have arrived," Takeda said.

Kazuya humored the ninja and looked around the corridor. It was nothing more than a plain hallway and a set of windows, albeit one freshly littered with cracks along the walls along with the mangled remains of a small contingent of marionettes. "Tell me the way, or I will wrench your head off your body," Kazuya threatened.

"Look to your right," Takeda merely answered.

Puzzled and upset, Kazuya made a quick glance to his right, eyeing the window for the briefest of seconds. Enraged, he then stepped towards the ninja, intending to go through with his threat.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what the hell are you doing?" the Manji agent stepped back.

"I am tired of your petty games!" Kazuya hollered. "Where is this route – "

"This is no game, and that window is your ******* alternate route!" Takeda spelled it out.

Kazuya stopped in his tracks, digging his nails into his palms in an attempt to temper his anger. Failing to do so, Kazuya took another step forward.

"Ugh… let me explain," Takeda groaned. "As long as you remain inside of this building, you will never get to the office thanks to a bunch of seals activated that we never knew existed! On top of that, this place is now crawling with a bunch of dummies that like nothing more than to fry our ***** off! The only place where you will have free reign is outside the building!" The ninja pointed to the window with his index finger. "Get it now?"

Kazuya took another glance at the window before him and snarled.

"I did mention we 'technically' have another way," Takeda shrugged.

The former G-Corporation CEO took a step towards the window, pressing his right hand against the glass surface. "How far up is the office?" he grunted.

"About another twenty stories up, towards the south end," Takeda answered. "I highly suggest, however, you hold back your power – "

Kazuya interrupted the ninja with a resounding punch towards the window.

"Will you stop that!" Takeda snapped. "Listen, you barely had much left after that fight against that flaming homo, Paul, and now those wooden thingies have sapped more of your strength!"

Kazuya continued pounding away at the reinforced glass without even so much acknowledging the ninja.

"I know it's strange coming from me, but we need to figure something out other than brutish manliness! Are you even listening?"

_CRASH!_

The glass shattered under Kazuya's might, leaving a gaping hole that was just enough for a man to go through.

"You gotta be kidding me," Takeda smacked his forehead.

As Kazuya stepped through the hole, his body began to gradually undergo its metamorphosis. His skin began to change to a purplish blue hue. Horns began to sprout from his head. Majestic bat-like wings unfurled from his scarred back. Dagger like claws extended from his fingers and toes. A whip-like tail thrashed menacingly from his lower back. His eyes turned blood red while a third crimson jewel appeared on his forehead.

"Can you at least hold back the power so as you don't exhaust all your energy?" Takeda pleaded with his employer. "I'd rather you don't go splat on the concrete below. Or worse, lose control of your power. I'd like to get paid sometime in the present, and I would prefer that without getting fried by your frickin' lasers…"

With a loud roar, Devil Kazuya leapt off the building, unfolded his wings, and took to the sky, leaving the hapless Manji agent alone to suddenly fend off against a new batch of marionettes.

"You owe me another stripper for this," Takeda muttered.

* * *

Anna felt her stomach turn momentarily as her body floated in the air across the office before crashing through a large vase. Stumbling towards the Irish woman, a broken yet still functioning 'marionette-Bruce' snickered under his breath, wiping his cracked lower lip with the back of his hand.

"Glad to know you still got some kick to ya," marionette-Bruce complimented the woman. "Here I thought it was gonna get boring."

Ignoring the cuts and scrapes on her arms, Anna slowly lifted herself back on her feet without dusting herself, and, raising her hands and parting her legs, assumed her fighting stance. "Again, shut the hell up."

In a guttural voice, marionette-Bruce let out a growl, and charged towards the Irish woman.

_

* * *

Never become attached to your pawns!_

Flapping his wings, Devil Kazuya ascended higher in the air, frantically following Takeda's direction and searched for Kyuuto's office.

_They are merely tools for your use!_

Devil Kazuya shook that thought from his head and continued to soar through the air. As he swerved towards the south end of the tower, his path was immediately interrupted by a pair of searing white light emanating from below. Gnashing his serrated teeth, the mighty devil turned to see a pair of marionettes hovering after him.

"Annoying roaches," Devil Kazuya hissed. Gliding to avoid another lancing white beam, Devil Kazuya descended towards the robed puppets.

Eyes blazing with hellish power, the demonic former CEO fired a pair of lancing beams of destructive force at the wooden puppets. Much to his dismay, however, the beams merely fizzled upon contact, neutralized easily by a field of holy light.

"Tsk!"

_Attachment only brings weakness!_

Devil Kazuya descended faster towards the marionettes with talons outstretched, intending to run them through with raw power. Reflexively, the marionettes were able to glide just out of the way, though not before the raging devil ripped a piece out of each marionette as he flew past them. Devil Kazuya quickly ascended sharply to the air in an arc, his body barely skimming against the surface of a skyscraper before veering his course back towards the marionettes. Not to be outdone, the marionettes quickly turned to face the blue creature and immediately fired their holy beams of brilliance at the devil. Exhaustion weighing in on him, Devil Kazuya managed to dodge the first attack, gliding towards his left. The second shot, he was less fortunate, the beam managing to hit his right shoulder, causing him to momentarily lose control.

"Insufferable… wooden… pestilence…" Devil Kazuya muttered, flapping his bat-like wings to regain his balance, and continued his charge.

* * *

Taking a step forward, marionette-Bruce connected with his right knee to the midsection, followed by a left knee, and, leaping forward, completed the combination with a flying right knee. The hapless Anna, bleeding profusely from the head, felt all three knees connect, sending her toppling backwards over the mangled office desk, and dangerously close to the window.

"Son of a…" Anna shook the haze out of her head, scrambling to get back on to her feet.

She barely had time to react when the imposter lunged forward and, extending his right arm, leapt to the air into a bone crushing uppercut. The punch missed the woman's chin by the thinnest of margins, though the pain in her head kept the brunette from creating any sort of counterattack in spite of the vulnerability the uppercut had left.

Thankfully, marionette-Bruce was barely an improvement as his punch managed to only grave a sidestepping Anna's cheek, his fist connecting to the glass instead. Hobbling slightly on his left leg, the kick boxer managed to block Anna's strike with his left arm, and barely stepped away in time to avoid her heel. Both fighters continued their exchange next to the glass window, with neither holding a decisive advantage over the other.

"Why… won't… you… stay… down!" marionette-Bruce, speaking through a shattered jaw, glared with his one remaining eye while lashing out with a flurry of punches.

"Why… won't… you… shut… up!" Anna countered, blocking the fists and, leaping to the air, fought back with two quick kicks in succession. Landing on her feet, she continued to press forward with awkward lefts and rights.

Marionette-Bruce was able to deflect her strikes and, spinning on his heel, managed to land a kick with his right leg. The brunette watched the world spin as she spun towards the glass once again. The impact caused the glass to crack even further, yet didn't give under the woman's weight.

"So long, slut," marionette-Bruce snickered. Rearing his leg back, he leapt forward and delivered a kick straight at the woman's chest. This time, the glass completely shattered, sending the brunette out of the building and plunging to her death.

At the least that would have been the case had a waiting Devil Kazuya wasn't there to catch her.

"Huh… what took you?" she smiled weakly.

Devil Kazuya glared menacingly at Bruce's copy, his eyes filled with fiery radiance.

_

* * *

One month ago, Bruce had a surprise guest come through the door. As a gracious host, the kick boxer did what any man would do upon meeting old acquaintances._

"_Brewsky?" Bruce offered a can to his former employer._

_Kazuya furrowed his brow at the kick boxer, then looked at the beer can with consideration. Shrugging to himself, he graciously accepted the offer and, pulling the tab, downed its alcoholic contents. The two men leaned against the wooden fence and stared at the dingy neighborhood._

_Minutes passed, and neither man spoke a single word. After more than twenty years, both employer and employee alike became accustomed to each other's mannerisms. Neither man needed to speak._

* * *

"Oh… hey, Kazuya," marionette-Bruce gave a toothy grin (what's left of it anyways). "Lookin' good for a man who nearly got his *** whooped this evening."

The mighty demon unleashed his beam of power through the shattered glass towards the broken marionette. The beam, unfortunately, fizzled the moment it entered the office.

"Forgot to mention the master also had this pad warded," marionette-Bruce said. "But, hey, come on in! We got _lots_ of talking to do!"

"Anna," Devil Kazuya said in his demonic voice. "Bring that doppelganger to me."

Anna grinned maliciously at the order. "Yes, sir."

Using Devil Kazuya's arms as a springboard, Anna leapt through the shattered glass towards the imposter. Reaching out with arms outstretched, she grabbed the puppet by the shoulders and balanced herself onto the marionette into a perfect handstand. Then, with hands still firmly on his shoulders, she landed back on the ground and, using her momentum, tossed marionette-Bruce over her head. The imposter's body landed onto a chair, smashing the piece of furniture to pieces. The marionette ambled to his feet only to be summarily tripped back down by a sweep of the leg.

"Stupid ***** - "

_CRUNCH!_

One hard stomp to the face later, marionette-Bruce found his broken jaw splintered into smaller pieces.

"Maybe that will finally shut you up," Anna spat, adding a kick to the head for good measure.

Growling under his breath, marionette-Bruce rolled to his side to avoid another stomp and got back on his feet. Clumsily, the imposter held his arms up and lifted his leg slightly in an awkward muay thai stance. The Irish woman spun in a clockwise direction, putting herself in position with the kick boxer's back towards the glass, and struck with her right hand before the kick boxer could react, landing a solid blow to the head. Marionette-Bruce's head snapped back as he stumbled backwards. Anna continued her assault, dashing forward with her left elbow, struck high with her right hand, then went low with a kick to the shins. Marionette-Bruce was able to block the elbow and the right hand, but was slow to react to the kick, further pushing the kick boxer back towards the window. Anna quickly followed with a short leap to the air, kicking the puppet with her left leg.

_CRASH!_

The wooden imposter toppled over some broken furniture, landing on his left shoulder at a sharp angle. Dashing forward, Anna unleashed a vicious overhead chop with her left arm, then, lifting her left leg, brought her heel down in an arc towards his exposed elbow.

_CRUNCH!_

The left arm broke under the heel's weight, snapping the limb at the joint. Kicking the broken forearm away, the brunette kicked the imposter at the ribs, pushing him even closer to the window.

"Ugh…" marionette-Bruce groaned, pushing himself up onto his knees. His eyes widened as he watched Anna rear back with her arms, preparing to deliver her final blow.

"So long, dummy."

In a burst of strength, Anna snapped her arms forward, striking the imposter with a double handed clout. Marionette-Bruce took the attack in full, tumbling towards the shattered window and falling off the ledge. That was when Devil Kazuya caught the puppet by the ankle and held him upside down.

"Hehehehe…" the jawless marionette chuckled.

* * *

"_How'd you find me, by the way?" Bruce finally asked, taking a sip of his own brew._

"_I have my sources," Kazuya simply answered, waggling the can in his hand before taking another sip._

"_Same old Kazuya," Bruce chuckled. "Always answering questions by not answering them at all."_

_Kazuya chuckled and continued to stare quietly at the neighborhood._

_Moments passed, and once again, neither man said a single word to each other._

* * *

Disgusted, Devil Kazuya grabbed the puppet by the leg and shoulder, and ripped him in half. The light in the puppet's eyes faded before both halves of the body went limp.

"Anna," Devil Kazuya finally called out. "Is our contact still alive?"

Gasping for breath, Anna made her way towards the businessman and assessed his condition. Her nose crinkled at a rather unpleasant odor from the now unconscious Kyuuto's pants. "Wounded hand, wounded pride… but he'll live," she answered.

Devil Kazuya simply nodded in acknowledgment. Staring at the broken halves of Bruce's doppelganger in silence, her remained still while Anna dragged Kyuuto's body towards the window. Quietly, he loosened his hold on the dead puppet's halves, and watched them fall.

_A Mishima is a symbol of strength! _

"We got to find Bruce," Anna insisted, as Devil Kazuya touched down miles away from Soleil's tower. "If the old man still has him, we need to go save him!"

Devil Kazuya remained unmoved as he dropped Anna and Kyuuto onto their feet. The Irish woman was absolutely irate at the former G-Corporation CEO's lack of response, and for the last several minutes, she had made her frustrations known.

The still shaken Kyuuto quietly watched the brunette plead with her employer, though to no avail.

"Kazuya!" Anna hollered. "Why aren't you answering me!"

The devil gradually morphed back to his human form, all traces of his demonic half slowly dissolving away.

_A Mishima has no weakness!_ _You are a Mishima!_

* * *

"_So, what brings you here?" the muay thai kick boxer broke the silence. "Actually… don't answer that. What help do you need this time?"_

"_Sheldon, get back here!"_

_Kazuya stoically glanced behind him, and watched as a woman chased down a toddler who was making a beeline towards the former G-Corporation CEO._

"_Gotcha!" The woman managed to catch the young boy and sheepishly apologized to both men._

"_Hey, no need to be sorry, babe," Bruce said, giving the woman a kiss on the cheek. "Listen, we'll just be a moment."_

"_How much longer?" the woman pouted._

"_A couple minutes, hon," Bruce nuzzled the woman._

"_You promise?"_

_Bruce tenderly kissed the woman on the lips._

"_I'll hold you to that," the woman giggled, lifting the toddler in her arms, and sauntered into the house._

* * *

"Kazuya!" Anna shouted with her fist balled to her sides.

"Please, you are only making a mockery of yourself," Kazuya finally answered, distancing himself from the brunette.

"Mockery?" Anna gaped. "Mockery!" The brunette stomped over to her employer and stubbornly stood in front of him, completely forgetting her position with the former G-Corporation CEO. "That man has loyally worked for you for _years_, and you're just gonna turn and walk away from that!"

"He… he can't be saved," Kyuuto timidly interrupted.

"What!"

_Never become attached to your pawns!_

* * *

"_You settled down," Kazuya remarked._

"_Times are changing," Bruce shrugged. "What can I say? Sharon's a good woman."_

"_Sharon…" Kazuya repeated the name, and finished the last of the beer in his can. Bruce offered his employer another can, which he gladly accepted. While the muay thai kick boxer grabbed hold of a can of his own, Kazuya's eyes wandered towards the woman whom his employee gave his life to and found himself struggling to hold back a smirk. 'Sharon', as she was called, looked to be about half of Bruce's age, and, without a shadow of a doubt, was very beautiful. Not just on the outside, but also warm and pleasant on the inside. Given some of his previous attachments he had (especially that one named… Nisha, or something), this one really came as a shock._

_How Bruce managed to land a babe like that, and get hitched along for the ride, it was a mystery which Kazuya would probably never figure out in his lifetime. He had too many other problems to worry about as is…_

"_Yeah, yeah, yeah, I've heard the jokes," Bruce said as though reading his mind. Then he leaned close to his employer and said, "I don't expect you to do so anyways, but if you do end up bumping into Anna again… uh… could you not tell her that I…" he gestured with his head, "with Sharon… you know…"_

_Kazuya sighed, pretending to be annoyed. "It will be our secret."_

* * *

"What do you mean he can't be saved!" Anna screamed, grabbing the businessman by the collar.

Kyuuto nearly choked in his saliva as he struggled to find the words. "I… I don't know all of the master's experiments…" he began, "nor do I fully understand them…"

"Boring!" Anna shook Kyuuto. "What of Heihachi's experiments!"

Kyuuto licked his lips, trying to regain what was left of his shattered composure (and dignity, for that matter) while Kazuya stood away from the two, clenching his fists at his sides.

"The 'copycat' marionette…" Kyuuto continued. "It's one of the master's alternatives to mind control… he usually prefers to control his subjects since the copycats themselves aren't quite perfect copies of the original person it's supposed to imitate…" Kyuuto winced as the Irish woman gave him a look that he understood all too well as 'get to the point'. "In order for the copycat marionette to be able to mimic a person… not only does it need to physically resemble the original, it also needs to resemble the original on the inside as well… personality, mannerisms, motions… and in order to do that…" Kyuuto stopped short of finishing his sentence.

"Yes?" Anna seethed.

Kyuuto swallowed hard. "In order to do that… the master would need to extract… the… the… essence… or something from the original… and that usually 'corrupts' the original's soul to the point…" his voice trailed off.

Despite Kyuuto being unable to finish his thought, Anna felt her stomach churn into a painful knot. "To the point… what?" she asked blankly.

"The original… dies… in the process," Kyuuto finally finished.

Anna felt her body go numb as she struggled to maintain herself. "You lie…" she said.

"I wish it was a lie, but I've seen the process with other copycats with my own eyes," Kyuuto stammered. "No one survives the process… the copycat replaces the original…"

"Liar!" Anna cried out, tears streaming down her face. "He's lying to us, Kazuya! He's…"

Kazuya folded his arms on his chest. His silence was all the confirmation Anna needed to know that her employer knew…

"No… no!" Anna shouted. "It's not true! It's so not true!" Anna buckled on her knees and sobbed. "He has a wife and kid… he can't be… can't be…"

_They are merely tools for your use!_

* * *

"_You know, you still haven't told me why you're here," Bruce reminded his employer._

_Kazuya exhaled quietly, his gaze still on the woman and toddler inside the house. "In about two months, there will be an Iron Fist Tournament to be held by a company other than the Mishima Zaibatsu."_

"_Ah," Bruce nodded. "And I take it you want me to be there to bust a few heads for ya. As always, if you need to bust some heads, I'm your man. I mean, I know I've been out of it for a while, but I'm still available."_

_Kazuya's eyes shifted to Bruce, studying his expression. By Mishima standards, he was every bit the perfect fool for him. A mound of pure muscle who gave his life to the former G-Corporation CEO out of some crude sense of honor, therefore providing Kazuya a very loyal subject for his beck and call, no questions asked. Strong, skillful in his craft with a fire in his eyes, definitely the perfect fool. All this, even after Bruce gave his heart to someone else._

_Even though some of that fire had left him._

_Kazuya stared at the wall of the house quietly, putting the beer can to his lips without taking a sip of the drink._

* * *

"Bruce was weak," Kazuya stated flatly. "And he was nothing but a mere tool that lost its use."

"Tool?" Anna whispered the word, then looked at her employer with disgust. "Tool!" she repeated, and lunged towards Kazuya in a fit of blind rage.

Kazuya swayed his head to the side and watched Anna's fist sail past his peripheral. The Irish woman now in a vulnerable position, Kazuya merely raised his right fist and landed a solid blow in the gut. Eyes popping out, Anna clutched her midsection and dropped to her knees.

"Bruce…" the brunette gasped between sobs. "He… was loyal to you… he left his family… because you wanted his help… how can you call him a mere tool!"

_Attachment only brings weakness! And a Mishima with weakness is no MIshima at all!_

"Because that was all he was," Kazuya replied. "He became useless the moment he decided to settle down. He lost his edge, and he reaped what he sowed."

As Kazuya turned to leave, Anna quickly grabbed her employer by the leg.

"He is not a tool… and he did not deserve this…" Anna hissed.

"Mr. Ishida," Kazuya said. "I suggest you find a place to hide… and take this wretched woman with you," he added, kicking the woman aside. Before Anna could protest any further, Kazuya had disappeared from sight.

* * *

It had been almost a week since he last set foot into this house. Not the most Spartan of abodes, though it served its purpose. It did manage to weather the storm that was Nina, Anna, Jin and himself all under one roof.

Walking past the living room, Kazuya sauntered into the kitchen to check the fridge of its contents.

Nothing, save for a can of beer.

Shutting the fridge door, Kazuya ambled back to the living room and sat down on one of the couches. Leaning back on his seat, he closed his eyes and meditated on the day's events.

_Immovable as a mountain! Powerful as the roaring seas! A Mishima is a symbol of strength! A Mishima has no weakness! You are a Mishima!_

The words of Heihachi rang through his head, a constant reminder of who he is, and what he represents.

_Never become attached to your pawns! They are merely tools for your use!_

Though he loathed to admit it, those sage words that his father had beaten into his mind, body, and soul had served him well for years. And though Bruce was a valuable pawn amongst all his tools, in the end he was simply something that would eventually wear out and become useless.

_Attachment only brings weakness!_

That was why Anna was weak, quickly reduced to a sniveling fool, all over a mere simpleton.

_And a Mishima with weakness is no MIshima at all!_

He is Kazuya Mishima.

He has no attachments, no weaknesses, for he is a Mishima, the ultimate embodiment of strength!

_A Mishima is a symbol of strength! A Mishima has no weakness! You are a Mishima!_

He is Kazuya Mishima! All would tremble before his name!

_Never become attached to your pawns! They are merely tools for your use!_

He has no attachments, no weaknesses! He is a Mishima, the ultimate embodiment of strength!

_You are a Mishima!_

He is…

* * *

"_Wait, I thought you needed my help, man."_

_Kazuya placed the can on a table nearby and quietly headed to the gate. Before he exited, he paused and looked down at his hand._

"_This conversation never took place," Kazuya said._

"_This convo… wait, just because I haven't fought in a while and got hitched doesn't mean I'm useless," Bruce made his case._

"_I never said that – "_

"_But you're thinking that, aren't you?"_

_Once again, the men were silent, though this time it was awkward. On one side, Bruce felt almost insulted that his employer seemed to no longer put much faith in him, using the kick boxer's long hiatus as an excuse. On the other, Kazuya never said Bruce was useless. Indeed, the years had certainly been good to both men, blessing them with an abundance of strength. Still, as much as Bruce 'owed' Kazuya his life, the kick boxer was divided between his loyalties and his wife; that much Kazuya had noticed simply by reading his expression, even if Bruce won't admit it. At the same time, Kazuya certainly could use the added muscle once more, something he hadn't relied on for quite some time, something he desperately needed, even if Kazuya won't admit it._

_More silence had passed._

_Finally, the former G-Corporation CEO looked Bruce in the eye and approached him. There was only one thing Kazuya could do in this situation. He reached out with his right arm, and extended it for a handshake._

_Bruce looked at the hand, then looked at Kazuya. Kazuya extending his hand out to him… this was definitely something he wasn't used to. He scrutinized his employer carefully, literally having a difficult time deciding whether to accept or not. Kazuya merely waited._

_Finally, with a loud clasp, Bruce's hand met Kazuya's, and the two shook each other's hands…_

…_like old friends._

_"Contact me, if you still wish to reap the world," Kazuya said._

* * *

And that was the point where Kazuya snapped.

Roaring like a wild animal, Kazuya shot up from his couch and began turning over the furniture, smashing them on the floor. Pulling at the shelf, he slammed it with the quickly growing pile of twisted rubble on the ground. Once he ran out of furniture to toss, he began to reach for the nearest item he could get his hands on, and began smashing against anything in his way. The ground, the floor, the television, the window, anything. When he ran out of things to smash in the living room, he ventured into the kitchen and began smashing those items. And when he ran out of things in the kitchen to smash, he stomped to one of the bedrooms and began tossing and breaking the furniture in there.

Minutes had passed, and Kazuya began punching and beating at the walls with his fists. Finally, he collapsed on his knees, his brow drenched with sweat.

_Sentiment will one day be your undoing…_

With the last of his strength spent, Kazuya dropped onto his fists and bowed low to the ground, his face contorted with grief.


	27. Stage 26

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 26_

The bell rang at Mishima Polytechnical High School, signaling the end of another day.

Hundreds upon hundreds of students sauntered out of their classrooms and began piling the hallways of the institution. Girls, clad in knee high socks, short skirts, and dark blouses that make up their school uniforms gracefully pranced through the halls towards the schoolyard, mingling with one another. The boys, dressed in dark sweaters and trousers that made up their uniforms sauntered with their fellow classmates, equally glad to be done with their classes. Preferring to be left alone at the moment, Jin casually walked around the crowd and made a beeline towards the exits.

"Hey, Jin!" Xiaoyu waved cheerfully amongst the gaggle of students. Jin stopped in his tracks and turned towards the familiar voice. "Over here! Hey!"

Stoically, Jin slung his schoolbag over his shoulder and sauntered towards the Chinese girl. Not one for waiting, Xiaoyu quickly ran towards her schoolmate, her trademark twin tails swishing to and fro and, in a single hop, abruptly stopped in front of him.

"You… you look awfully excited today," Jin crooked his eyebrow at the smaller girl. Granted, there was never a day he recalled that Xiaoyu was never excited, but today she seemed even more exuberant than usual. Jin had to admit, a part of him was a little frightened…

Xiaoyu giggled at the taller schoolmate, and nodded her head happily while rocking on her heels.

"Guess what happened today!" she chirped, grabbing Jin by the hands and hopping up and down like a rabbit. "Guess what, guess what, guess what!"

"Uh…"

"Remember what Miharu had said about that – "

While the Chinese pixie spoke, Jin tilted his head and smiled nervously, barely understanding a word the girl was saying to him.

"…I told her, 'no way'! And she said 'yes way'! And then she said – "

Not that he wasn't trying to follow her words, but the combination of noise in the background and the fact she managed to utter fifty words in two seconds made it just about impossible to comprehend. Multiply that by a factor of a hundred, and, well…

"…but then I asked her, what if she did – "

A few seconds later, his mind had already tuned out the chatter, the words mostly a bunch of cheerful static.

"…and then this amazing thing happened! There was this – "

In another few moments, Jin felt the urge to bolt out the door. One could call it a miracle he managed to remain on his two feet all this time, let alone withstand a barrage of words for the past twenty or so minutes…

"Isn't that great!" Xiaoyu suddenly squealed, causing Jin to nearly jump out of his skin.

"Um… yes… that's great…" he replied nervously.

Xiaoyu put her hands on her hips and pouted. "You weren't even listening, were you?"

"Uh… no, I mean… I…" Jin lowered his head in shame. "Sorry."

Xiaoyu glared at Jin childishly, not uttering a single word. "You're forgiven!" she suddenly squealed, and happily clapped him hard on the back.

"Ow…" Jin grimaced.

"Hey! Hey! I want to show you something!" Xiaoyu continued, oblivious to her schoolmate's pain while pulling him by the arm.

"Xiaoyu, I have to meet, uh, grandfather for – "

"It's a surprise," Xiaoyu winked mischievously.

Staring into the girl's cocoa brown eyes, it didn't take very long for Jin's stoic barriers to break down. The cheerful expression and that glint in her eye was something hard for him to ignore.

"Well… alright," he relented.

"Yippee!" Xiaoyu cheered triumphantly and, before Jin could utter another word, she tugged her schoolmate by the elbow through the throngs of students.

That was also the moment Jin noticed, amongst said throngs of students, a pale skinned young woman with raven black hair watching the two with deep, penetrating golden eyes…

"What are you looking at?" the Chinese pixie asked.

"Huh?" Jin glanced back at his friend. "Well, I was…" he quickly turned back to where the young woman was standing, only for her to completely vanish from sight. "Nothing, Xiaoyu…" he sighed.

Bumping through the crowds, pushing her way down the hallway and out into the schoolyard, she lead Jin past the golden statue of Heihachi standing proudly by the institution, then through the open gates and out towards the streets. Minutes passed, and the two students found themselves away from the city and out in the middle of an open field.

"Where are we going?" Jin asked.

"You'll see," was all she said.

Several more minutes had passed, and the two found themselves standing in front of an old, worn out shrine with an unremarkable looking hut overlooking the scenery. Well… perhaps not too unremarkable… the spider webs littered along the doorway and window sills added a dirty white to go along with the drab brown… the colors blending seamlessly with the pungent odor emanating from said doorway and sills.

"Wait right here," Xiaoyu said, grinning ear to ear as she scampered into the small hut.

Exhaling to himself, Jin quietly… hesitantly… sat next to the foot of the entrance (his feet ached from the walk), and waited. Five minutes later, Jin leaned his chin against his right hand and lazily stared at the ants crawling on the dirt.

"Jin!"

Hearing his name called, he bolted back to his feet and turned to the entrance…

_CRUNCH!_

_(What the –)_

"Whoa, you alright!" a gruff voice with a hint of concern in his tone asked. The question was followed by a massive, burly hand reaching down in an offer of assistance.

Shaking his dazed head, Jin accepted the gesture with a firm grip, and, with a strong yank of the arm, was pulled back to his feet. Dusting himself warily, he looked towards the source of the massive limb, and found himself staring briefly at a mass of chest hair. Stunned (and appalled), he slowly lifted his head upward, and found a pair of small, beady eyes framed by a clean shaven head and a partially bitten left ear looking back at him…

"You normally block this move," the giant… monster… creature… man stated. "Is something the matter?"

Frowning, he exhaled quietly and said, "_Grrr, growl-grr-grrrr-rowl-rowl-rrr-ra –_ "

_(Huh!)_

Immediately, Jin glanced at the palms of his hands… yellow gloved hands… then rubbed furiously at his face. At least he would have, save for the mass of soft fur in the way and some pointed teeth…

"OK, buddy, now you're just freaking me out."

"_Growl! Grrr, grr, rowl-rrr-_rowlll_!_"

"T-that's a mask you're touching, not your real face… uh, seriously, I didn't hit you _that_ hard – "

"_Rawr-rowl-rawr-grr-rawr!_"

"Hey-hey-hey, stop ripping at it like that – "

"_Rowr-rawr!_"

"What do you mean 'how do you take it off'! It's a ******* mask! Magic mask, yeah, but a ******* mask all the same – "

"_Rawr-rawr-rawr-rawr-ROAR!_"

"Seriously, King, I really, really,_ really_ didn't hit you that hard!"

"_Growl, rawr-rawr – rrr… grr… grah?_"

"Uh… I called you 'King'… and now I'm really worried about you, buddy…"

He blinked twice.

"_Grah?_"

"Yes. King."

"_Rrr…. Rawr-rah?_"

"Mirror? To your left."

With a nod of his head, he quietly scampered over to the full sized mirror and took a look at his reflection. Instead of a human face, the head of a jaguar stared right back at him.

_(This is new…)_

"_Growl-grr-rowl-rawr-growl?_"

"We're in the gym," the mammoth answered.

"_Hrr?_"

"Uh, the gym, _our_ gym, of course!" The masked man looked at the giant with confusion. "Really? I need to spell it ou – The Mixed Martial Arts Gym "Wild Kingdom". You know, you, King, me, Craig, the one we opened up years ago, that ring a bell?" Sighing to himself, the burly man approached 'King' and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "You know what? Let's call it day."

'King' lowered his head and uttered a guttural sigh.

"_Rrrr…. Rowl-gruff._"

"Don't worry about it, buddy," Craig nodded his head. "Let me go grab a beer. Uh… that is, you still like beer, right?"

"_Rrrgh_."

"Right. I'll grab you a cold one… You know what, let's make it two of them."

'King' waited till Craig left the ring, then turned back to the reflection in the mirror. He examined himself up and down, noting the darker tone of his skin, and the bulkier muscle mass along his shoulders, arms, and pectorals. Not that he was envious or anything, especially since Jin himself happened to be considered a fine specimen himself, though he had to admit, size-wise, King's physique does make Jin's pale in comparison. Scratching the fur under his chin, 'King' wandered lazily in a circle, pondering his latest predicament. Then, out of nowhere, he flexed his arms and posed in front of the mirror. Shaking his head with disapproval, 'King' walked off to the side of the mirror, jumped back, and, body trembling like a maniac, struck yet another pose.

"_Roar!_"

_(Wait, what am I doing?)_

'King' stepped back from the mirror, scratching his head. Snarling at himself, he waved dismissively at his reflection and stomped away…

…and moments later, jumped back in front of the mirror and began to 'argue' with said reflection once more, gesturing with his index finger, flexing his arms (to show off his '24 inch pythons', no doubt), and ending his mock tirade with a thumbs down. By the time his mini self promo was done, 'King' found himself staring not at the reflection of 'himself', but rather that of the pale skinned woman he saw moments ago. Her face was expressionless as it was before, save for the aura within her deep, golden eyes…

_(You!)_

"I don't even want to know."

'King's' ears twitched at the sound of Craig's voice entering the gym. He looked back at the mirror, the reflection once again the image of a jaguar-headed man.

"_Eh… grunt…_"

Deciding to ignore the strange sight, Craig waved two cold bottles in his hand, and, twisting the cap off one bottle, tossed the other towards 'King'.

"Heads up."

'King' raised his right hand in the air to catch the bottle…

_SMACK!_

…and suddenly found himself flat on his back as a spinning white spherical object hit him on the forearm and knocked him off his feet.

_Alright, that hurt a little…_

Groaning to himself, he gradually pushed himself on one knee, the green grass soft to the touch… and found his senses reeling at the sight of his surroundings. Sunny blue skies with nary a cloud in sight, a magnificent mansion proudly overlooking the background, a massive swimming pool some short distance away sitting next to a large marble water fountain of the finest craftsmanship, a field of green grass with what appeared to be a long net in the centre –

"Are you alright?"

…a scantily clad woman in a bikini running towards him, noticeably well endowed in all the right places –

"I didn't mean to hit the ball that hard!"

…a breathtaking scenery filled with hills and lush grass, another scantily clad woman in a bikini kneeling next to him with her arm wrapped around his, equally as well endowed in all the right places –

"Don't rush the poor thing! Here, take your time."

…signs of various wealth and riches decorating the driveways of the mansion in the form of vintage vehicles and sports cars, another scantily clad woman in a bikini kneeling in front of him, also well endowed in all –

"Don't crowd her so much!"

…another scantily clad woman in a bikini jogging towards him –

"Give her some space!"

…pretty soon, he found himself surrounded by scantily clad women in bikinis of many different shapes and colors, all of them well endowed in all the – wait a minute, did she just call him a 'her'?

"I… I'm fine, really, I…" he stammered.

The words uttered from his mouth came across more high pitched than he thought. At least he wasn't growling like an animal, he thought.

"Are you sure?" one of the women asked.

Gradually, his eyes peeled away from the various sights of gorgeous valleys and peaks barely covered in fabric and looked at his hands… soft, slim, delicate looking hands. Peeling his eyes off of that, he lowered his hands away and looked down at his body, and found himself greeted by a pair of finely shaped… round… parts. Blinking twice, his eyes darted to his legs, to his shoulders, to his backside, letting out a quiet gasp of shock at the sight of his body… a decidedly curvaceous, scrumptious, highly pleasing body covered in thin pieces of cloth making up what was supposed to be a bikini, much like the gaggle of women surrounding him right now.

Not to mention well endowed in all the right places, of course.

He/she gaped.

"Y-yes… really… I am."

"You don't look so fine."

"No, really, I… I'm fine…" he/she said, ashamed that he/she found him/herself enjoying his/her predicament while the women tried their best to be 'helpful'.

"What is going on?" a decidedly masculine voice amongst the menagerie of women called out. All eyes averted from him/her to the source of the new voice: Lee Chaolan.

The surrounding women fawned at the Silver Haired Devil's silky smooth voice and finely chiseled physique. All the women except him/her that is. The women squealed at the man, each trying to explain all at once how he/she got hurt while playing volleyball. He/she merely gaped again.

"Are you alright?" Chaolan asked, reaching out with a well defined right arm.

He/she stared at the silver haired man before him, clad in nothing but sunglasses and a Speedo.

"Let me help you."

The handsome specimen of a man leaned closer towards him/her, gently holding him/her by the hand. He/she let out an audible gulp. Before he/she knew it, Chaolan yanked him/her gracefully back on his/her feet, his/her momentum thrown forward towards the Silver Haired Devil's arms and well toned pectorals.

"No need to be shy," Chaolan winked.

_Oh, hell no!_

"I'm fine!" he/she shook him/herself away as though struck by electricity. "I mean…"

Chaolan was stunned by his/her abrupt reaction but remained quiet.

"I… uh…" he/she glanced at the rest of the onlookers nervously. "Thank you!" he/she finally said with a hasty bow, and scampered away.

When he/she was out of eyesight, Chaolan put his hand under his chin thoughtfully and nodded with approval.

"I like her," he said, lifting his right hand with a thumbs up. "She has personality."

Stepping furiously away from the lush yard, past the massive swimming pool (cursing at the thong riding between his/her posterior), peering over his/her shoulders to make sure no one was around or following him/her, he/she broke into a brisk run, putting distance between him/herself and the mansion. Arms and legs burning from the effort, he quickly realized that this new body, though very appealing to the eyes, was nowhere near as strong as his regular body was, lacking, above all else, in stamina much to his dismay. In spite of this drawback, he/she continued to push on as much as his/her legs would allow it, setting his sights towards a large tree standing proudly against the hot rays of the sun. Ten steps later, he/she slowed from a run to a jog, which gradually became a stumbling walk. Another ten steps later, he/she collapsed onto his/her hands and knees, coughing up dry heaves before falling onto his/her stomach, completely sapped of energy. The light breeze caressing his/her skin and the lack of rays beating against him/her, however, told him/her he managed to make it under the large branches of the tree. It was a small victory under the circumstances.

"Ugh…"

Rolling onto his/her back, he/she exhaled softly, attempting to get his/her breathing back under control.

"I… ugh… I got… huh… hit on… huh… by my step… ugh… uncle…"

Moments after he/she managed to catch some of his/her breath, the realization crystallized in his/her head.

_DAMMIT!_

Shivers trickled down his/her spine as he/she sat up, wiping the image from his/her mind as though ridding him/herself of an irritating stain. Covering his/her face with his/her hands, he/she nearly jumped out of his/her skin when he/she heard a light rustle in front of him/her.

"Who's there!" he/she snapped. No sooner did his/her words left his/her mouth did he/she find him/herself gazing into the eyes of the pale skinned woman looming before over him/her…

"Hanako?" he/she said in a hollow voice, slowly lifting him/herself back to his/her feet.

The sun blazed from the heavens, the tree's branches gently rocking from the wind. Time stood still as the two fixed their gazes at each other, neither one budging from their spot. Finally, he/she took a step forward towards the woman, his/her eyes still fixated on the golden orbs staring into his/her soul.

"What is going on?" he/she asked.

The woman didn't answer. However, a trickle of moisture shimmered from her eyes…

"Hanako?"

And in an instant, the scenery changed once more. The hills and green grass vanished, as did the large mansion and its exuberant scene of wealth, prestige, and marbled artistry (along with the scantily clad women in bikinis, well endowed in all the right places… much to Jin's surprising dismay). In its place was a sight that seemed both foreign and familiar at the same time. No longer blue, orange was the sky matted in the backdrop of light clouds and a golden sunset. Instead of a single tree on a field of grass, a flood of trees of many different shapes and sizes stood mighty and proud, their branches reaching upwards towards the orange canopy. Mountains and cliffs as opposed to concrete and cars as far as the eye could see loomed over the beautiful forest, nature's own wealth and artistry. For Jin, it had been too long since he had laid eyes on such wonder, untainted by the corruption of business and economics.

"Where… am I?"

"Did you say something, Julia?"

Jin, or rather 'Julia' turned 'her' head towards the soft, affectionate voice of 'her' mother, Michelle Chang, and right this instance, 'she' realized where she was: Arizona.

At this point, Jin had become used to the scene changes and body switches, plus he was much too tired to feel shocked anyways. While he would have preferred being in his own body (or at least a man's body if not his own), Julia's wasn't such a bad choice. At least he won't have to worry about running out of breath (plus she was also easy on the eyes, a bonus perk amongst other things). The headband around 'her' head, on the other hand, felt a little bit tight around the forehead…

"Julia?"

Snapped out of her reverie, 'Julia' opened her mouth, wanting to speak, but thought better of it and shook 'her' head.

"No, Miss – Mich… uh… it was nothing… mother," 'she' replied, looking away as she spoke. "Just talking to myself."

Michelle tilted her head to the side, a small gleam of concern sparkled in her deep, brown eyes. Brushing back her dark mane of hair, he long plume on her head band rocking gently from the touch, the Native American woman wrapped a reassuring arm around her 'daughter's' shoulders affectionately.

"Just so you should know, you are a terrible liar," Michelle told 'her' softly.

The move startled Jin, unsure how to respond. Here he was, inside the body of a woman whom, aside from a few reports and light conversation, he was only vaguely familiar with at best, talking to yet another woman whom he was less familiar with, wondering exactly how to answer 'her' 'mother's' comment. Aside from being a mother, Jin also remembered quite well that Michelle was also an experienced fighter, a practitioner of Chinese kenpo… and was once considered an enemy of the Mishima clan. Though Jin didn't expect her to suspect anything out of the ordinary beyond acting 'strange' or being a 'terrible liar'… he still felt uneasy. This did not go unnoticed to 'her' mother, as Michelle felt her 'daughter' stiffen under her arm.

"Is something the matter?" Michelle asked. "You are much too tense. More so than usual."

'Julia' relaxed slightly yet still wouldn't look Michelle in the eye.

"Sorry, mother," 'she' replied. "I guess I have a lot on my mind these days."

Michelle narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"I may not be college educated, but it doesn't take a doctorate to know that my daughter has more than simply 'something in her mind'," she stated. "You want to talk about it?"

'Julia' reached back gingerly with 'her' hand, and found 'herself' stroking one of her twin braids with 'her' fingertip. Forcing herself to smile, she looked Michelle in the eye and replied, "I… I don't even know where to begin…"

Michelle looked at 'her' with tender, soothing eyes. Hard for 'Julia' to believe that this was the same woman who once participated in the Iron Fist Tournament as one of the fiercest fighters in the competition. From what 'she' had heard, Michelle had a blood thirsty vendetta against the Mishimas… though having her own mother kidnapped for the sake of a piece of jewelry would be a good reason to lose one's cool, and then some.

"You see, I…" 'Julia' began, stumbling for the right words.

One thing Jin was certain of, Michelle had motherhood wired into her genes. For instance, that gentle, tender expression which on the one hand gives off the impression of a quiet patience, yet…

"There's no need to rush. If you don't wish to talk about it, it is alright with me."

…so smooth and loving is the expression that a sentence like that could disarm him to the point where eventually he couldn't help but speak. It was the same type of look that his own mother would use on him… when she wanted to get an answer from him.

"It's like… like I have the whole world breathing down my neck, and… I feel my own life sapped out of me…" 'she' said, hoping the response didn't sound too corny, even if there's some truth to it. "Uh… you understand what I mean?"

Michelle studied her 'daughter's' face, pondering the words that came out of 'her' mouth.

"That is because you work too hard," Michelle answered wryly with a light pat on 'her' head. "Where to start… there's school, always burying your nose in books, which didn't get much better when you left for college to start on that reforestation project. Then you have the favors you pulled for that wrestler friend of yours, complete with wearing that ridiculous outfit. And now…" Michelle took a moment to pause and look her 'daughter' in the eye. "As I said," she continued. "You work too hard."

'Julia' allowed a chuckle to escape from 'her' lips. 'She' couldn't help but feel at ease with 'her' 'mother'…

"Fine, so I need to relax," 'Julia' laughed. Feeling the moment, 'she' playfully wrapped her arm around Michelle's shoulder and soaked up her surroundings. "This is beautiful," 'she' remarked, her eyes wide-eyed with wonder over the mass of forest surrounding their home.

"And it's all because of you," Michelle said. "You saved our land… our home. And I could never be more proud."

Hearing those praises made 'Julia' feel a little envious of Julia.

"Too bad the same can't be said for the rest of the world," 'she' sighed, slumping 'her' head down.

"No one asked you to save the whole world," Michelle stated. "You are only one person. For all the abilities we've been granted, we could only do so much by ourselves."

"Then who else would do it?" 'she' seethed. "There are few good people left, and even fewer who have the power to change it. Everyone else is either too weak to do anything, or too busy to care! So long as the likes of evil men hold sway over the rest, the world will never truly be saved!"

"Evil men?" Michelle blinked.

"Like Heihachi, Kazuya, or… or…" 'Julia's' voice faltered, unable to utter the name.

Michelle quietly watched her 'daughter' fume, patiently waiting for the right moment to speak.

"Mich – mother, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to… I…"

"I won't say I understand everything," Michelle said. "In fact, I really don't have all the answers. But I will tell you a little story. I once knew a man who, I guess you could say, abandon his role, his beliefs, everything, took up the burdens of the world, and fought a never-ending war, all for the sake of building a new future for the next generation. In the process… he lost his will, lost his faith… and had abandoned all hope. He became depressed to the point where he began drinking. Somewhere along the way, he did receive help getting out of this depression… from an old enemy, of all people. With that, his spirit was renewed, at least enough to fight once again. But somehow, even with this renewal, he still fell short on what he set out to do, and his hope dwindled once more… and he would have relapsed into drinking once more, if not for one thing."

"And… what was that?"

"The future," Michelle answered. Then, with a smile, she added, "The laughter of children." Chuckling to herself, she continued, "I don't know all the answers. But I can tell you that, despite what the world has thrown at me… I was still blessed. I have you, and that was the best things that had ever happened to me. To enjoy what you've been given, rather than simply focus on the flaws of the world… that was what the first King had taught me."

'Julia' could only look at 'her' feet as the words didn't register to her. Still, 'she' managed to muster a smile, and nodded her thanks.

"I don't know about you, but I feel a little tired," Michelle said. "Do you wish to be outside a little longer?"

'Julia' looked at 'her' 'mother' and smiled. "I would like that, if you don't mind."

Michelle turned and walked away. "Don't stay out too long."

"I won't."

Turning away from Michelle, 'Julia' took one last look at the immense forest…

…and was greeted by hellish flames.

"Ugh!" 'Julia' tripped, barely managing to recover her balance. "Michelle…"

Turning away from the flames, the forest in the background vanished, in its place the inside of a small hut… or what used to be one, as fire and ash ate away at the walls and furniture.

"Julia, what are you still doing here!"

Before 'Julia' could reply, 'she' felt a hard object smack her in the side of the face, causing 'her' to topple over backwards and skid along the ground. Lying on the ground, yet still conscious, 'Julia' merely reacted on instinct as 'she' rolled quickly to the left to avoid receiving yet another blow, this one aimed at 'her' chest.

_CRUNCH!_

The spot where 'she' laid on splintered from the impact as 'Julia' pressed 'her' hand on the floor and, with a deft push, flipped 'herself' back to 'her' feet. Catching a glimpse of 'her' attacker, 'her' jaw nearly hit the floor when she realized who it was that attacked the Changs.

"I don't believe it…" 'she' mumbled.

Straightening itself, the robed marionette lifted its fist from the floor and hovered towards 'Julia'. Luminescent eyes burned at the sight of its prey as it raised its hands in front of its chest, preparing for another attack.

"Julia!" Michelle hollered, leaping to her 'daughter's' rescue.

That momentary distraction was enough for Michelle to deliver a solid kick to the side of the marionette, knocking the robed figure out of the way.

"M-mother…"

"I told you to leave the house," Michelle snapped, keeping herself low to avoid inhaling the acrid smoke.

"Wha… wh… when… what's going on…"

The roof above the two began to creak, signaling the collapse of the house.

"Less talk, more running," Michelle said through gritted teeth, pulling her 'daughter' by the arm towards the closed door.

As the women scrambled, the roof bit by bit began to fall, crushing anything below within its burning wooden mass. Just as they reached the door itself, the marionette floated back to its feet, heavenly aura shimmering from its eyes.

"Watch out!" Michelle shouted, jerking 'Julia' to the front.

Then, in a flash, the Native American felt a searing pain on her upper back as she was struck by a pair of white beams.

"Yearrrrrrrrrgh!"

"Mother!"

The impact of the beam pushed both women forward, causing them to crash through the door into the cold night. Both women skidded along the dirt, with 'Julia' holding onto 'her' injured 'mother' with 'her' slim, yet strong hands. Groaning in pain, 'Julia' slowly staggered to 'her' hands and knees, turning her head back to the burning house as it collapsed into a fiery heap. 'She' stared in wide-eyed shock as the silhouette of the marionette etched itself against the burning blaze.

"Oooooh…"

"Mother!" 'Julia' gasped, scrambling towards Michelle.

A haunting chill washed over both women as the Changs turned away from the flames to the darkness. From behind, more marionettes appeared, floating in midair with their hands raised, white robes fluttering against the howl of the wind.

"Julia…" Michelle groaned weakly.

Without saying a word, 'Julia' slung Michelle's arm over 'her' shoulder and hobbled into the dense forest as the marionettes took to the sky and gave chase.

Trudging through the branches and deep into the darkness, the women found themselves barely covering much ground as the cold wind and their injuries, especially those of Michelle's, conspired against them. Though the cover of the trees managed to slow down their pursuers somewhat, both knew that it would only be a matter of time before the marionettes would find them.

"Julia…"

"Not now. They're still behind us."

"Julia, please…"

"Don't worry, we'll make it through – "

A streak of pulsating light whizzed past them, managing to graze 'Julia' by the cheek. The resulting impact pulverized some rocks, throwing debris towards their direction. 'Julia' and Michelle raised an arm to cover their faces as they staggered back. Then, another beam fired from the sky, pulverizing the trunk of a nearby tree.

"Look out!" 'Julia' cried out, grabbing hold of 'her' 'mother' and diving to the side just as the once mighty oak toppled over, threatening to crush them both.

_CRASH!_

Ignoring the scrapes and fresh bruises, 'Julia' picked 'herself' up from the dirt and carefully lifted Michelle to a sitting position. Both women watched in horror as their pursuers descended from the sky and surrounded them. The sound of ominous chanting can be heard emanating from the wooden mannequins as they slowly made their approach.

"Julia," Michelle gasped, "if… if there's ever…"

"Sh-sh-shhhh… stop talking…"

"…ever a time you need to listen to…"

"Sh… don't say another word – "

"…your mother… now… "

"Stop it, you're still bleeding. Just… just hang on a little…"

"…now would be… would be the time to do so…"

"Yes, anything, anything for you, mother, just let me figure this out and we – "

"Run…" Michelle said hoarsely.

'Julia' looked at Michelle incredulously. "Run?"

"I… will only slow you down…" Michelle continued, dragging herself to her feet, struggling yet managing to assume her fighting stance. "I… I still have… some fight left in me… I will distract them… you get away…"

"No."

Now it was Michelle's turn to be incredulous.

"No? Now is not the time to be stubborn, Julia!"

"I am not leaving you."

"Y-you don't have a say in this – "

"I am not leaving you."

"Listen to me, young lady," Michelle glared with gritted teeth. "I am your _mother_, and you will do what I say."

"I… am _not_ leaving you!" 'she' cried out, shocked at even 'her' own reaction.

Michelle felt her anger boil in a way she had not felt in years. "I will… not have my daughter get… herself killed – "

"No!" 'Julia' snapped back. "We will run together, or we fight together! But I will not leave your side! You hear me!" As 'she' spoke, flashes of the past flickered in 'her' mind of a place that seemed so distant.

A green forest.

A rocky beach.

A small house.

"Never!" 'Julia' screamed with determination in 'her' voice.

Yakushima, his home.

"Never…"

Fire and rubble burning permanent scars in its path…

A woman, beautiful as an angel, elegant as a crane…

A demon, vile, hungry, maligned…

"Never again!"

By that declaration, the marionettes paused in their advance. Red lightning crackled from 'her' fists, snaking around 'her' arms, eventually enveloping 'her' whole body. With a feral snarl, 'Julia' bellowed out 'her' battle cry, and leapt towards the robed puppets. Closing the distance with seemingly inhuman speed, 'she' pulverized the first marionette with a right fist, then, spinning on 'her' feet, backhanded the next marionette within 'her' reach. The third marionette hovered forward with an extended arm, the strike missing its target by mere millimeters, allowing 'Julia' to counter with a left jab, followed by a powerful right hook. Reflexively, 'Julia' lifted 'her' right leg and kicked towards 'her' rear, knocking back a fourth marionette.

"Ugh!" 'Julia' grunted as 'she' took a strike to the jaw.

The rest of the mannequins responded, leaping into the air to strike. 'Julia' managed to sidestep one of the leaping attackers, and even successfully connected with an uppercut from 'her' left fist. The next attacker, 'she' wasn't quite as successful as the marionette swiped at 'her' with its right hand, its claws managing to graze 'her' chest. Still, 'she' was able to counter the next attack by blocking it with 'her' left knee, then attack with 'her' right leg. Yet, as valiant as 'her' effort was, there were simply too many of them as the rest of the wooden mannequins attacked 'her' simultaneously, knocking 'her' off 'her' feet and slamming 'her' against a tree.

"Mother!" 'Julia' looked on in horror, as Michelle in her injured state was quickly overpowered by a single marionette.

Battered and weakened, the wooden puppet seized her by the throat and lifted her over its head. Even in its grip, she struggled defiantly, flailing her hands at her assailant, kicking the marionette with her feet, but to no avail. The once proud Michelle Chang was a mere rag doll in its hands as she felt the life drained out of her… literally. The Native American shook and convulsed, feeling her soul being ripped out of her mouth by a supernatural force. And then, her hand dropping limp to her side, it was done.

"No…"

It was happening all over again. The fires, the ruins… and death… the nightmare has repeated itself, and 'Julia' was helpless to stop it.

"Rarrrrgh!"

Suddenly, all the marionettes were thrown back as streaks of crimson power burst forth, shattering their bodies into wooden chunks, along with the rest of the forest… or even the scenery for that matter. The trees, the house, the landscape, even the sky, all had been seared from existence. And in the center of the explosion, Jin stood with fists balled to his sides, his face contorted with rage, lashing out to the world in all his fury until there was nothing left. Overcome with exhaustion, Jin dropped back down to his knees, burying his face to the ground. Sounds of weeping echoed through the vast emptiness, quiet, but unmistakable.

And yet no tears flowed down his face…

"I'm sorry…" a voice spoke out in a hush whisper.

Hanako huddled at a corner of the tailor shop, unable to look the former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO in the eyes, though clearly choked up in emotion. Empty boxes littered the space all around, clothes hung lifelessly over some shelves. Jin raised his head off the ground, though remained hunched over on his knees, clenching his fists till his knuckles cracked.

"Why…" he seethed, struggling to keep his temper in check.

The woman didn't answer, merely tugging at the collar of her shirt, and continued to sob quietly. Grinding his teeth, the former CEO rose to his feet and turned to Hanako.

"Why did you show me this?"

"I… I'm so sorry…" Hanako apologized again. "Voices… they keep talking… I… I can't stop them…"

"What do you mean you can't stop them!" Jin exclaimed, grabbing Hanako by the arms.

"They… they keep talking to me… in here…" she pointed to her head, "and I don't… I don't know how to stop them…"

"Try harder!" a still shaken Jin shot back, his grip tightening around her arms.

"I can't!" Hanako wailed. "They insist on talking! They won't leave me alone, they insist on showing me… showing us this!"

Realizing what he was doing, Jin quickly calmed down, though remained agitated from the ordeal. "Hanako, I… I'm… they were not this bad before…" he muttered.

"They're… they're dying…" she said. Jin glanced at the woman with a confused look on his face. "They're dying… and so will I…" Hanako added in a defeated tone.

"Wh-what do you mean – "

"I could feel it…" Hanako stared blankly, her face more pale than before as she spoke. "I… could feel them… taking them… taking _us_ away… almost… complete…"

"Complete what?" Jin asked, his anger replaced with urgency. "What are they com – " his voice trailed off, finally realizing what she meant. "The project… Gaia…"

"Almost… complete… and…" Hanako gasped before her body went into convulsions.

"Hanako? Hanako!" Jin quickly held the woman in his arms, helpless once more as he felt her fade. "You must fight this, Hanako… Dammit, fight it!"

"I… don't… know…" she gasped. "How… much… long… er…" Her voice was barely a whisper as the shaking gradually subsided. Her eyes began to close as her body became limp under his arms.

"Hanako..." Jin muttered her name.

Then, all of a sudden, Hanako's eyes opened as she arched her back and let out a powerful shriek that sent even Jin falling back. It wasn't a shriek of one woman, but the cries of many voices all at once, all in insufferable pain. The walls around them cracked and crumbled, the floor of the tailor shop suddenly gave way as Jin felt himself fall into the abyss…

…and 'landed' in the middle of a boisterous arena. Stunned by the sounds of cheers, it took some time for Jin to regain his senses before his mind registered where he was.

Day six of the tournament.

Jin's match was up next, and his opponent…

"Are you gonna stand there like an ******* or are you finally gonna fight!"

The former Zaibatsu CEO groaned quietly to himself. Then again, given the circumstances, Jin needed someone to 'vent' his frustrations at, and if there's anyone who could take a beating…

"Don't say I didn't warn you, but I am especially in no mood for your petty games," Jin replied. Adjusting his fighting gloves, Jin rubbed his lip with the back of his hand and, standing angled to his opponent, legs rampart and fists raised, assumed his fighting stance. "Let's get this over with."

With a sneer, the red haired biker, Hwoarang snuffed his nose at the former CEO, and, bouncing on his feet, assumed his own fighting posture.

"Fight!"

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** Son of a monkey freak, has it been that long since I uploaded? And of all things, THIS is what I come up with? Apologies to the one or two that follow this fic. Real life happens, and so does writer's block. :P A number of things have happened, such as earthquakes and floods, me becoming more broke, Namco and Capcom actually coming up with cross overs for their coveted fighting franchises, Tekken Tag Tournament 2 coming out, and Harada listening to the outpouring of fans and making Jun and Unknown one and the same. :P Mind you, despite this, it still doesn't stop me from continuing to write my take on Unknown (aka. Hanako), and given how little I've devoted to her as of late, I figured this would be a way of catching up, especially since I kinda wanted to show what goes on in Jin's head when the two have those 'telepathic' moments, though this one is more unusual than... um... usual. Well, all things considering, it's done at last! Hope it doesn't come off as longwinded and rushed all at the same time, as I have a tendency to do when I have to force my writing out.

Anyways, thanks for those reading, thanks for those faving, and thanks for those who have reviewed. :) Next update... whenever I get around to it.


	28. Stage 27

**Tekken: Kings and Queens**

_Stage 27_

_Once upon a time, there lived a great and mighty prince who had almost everything in the world he could imagine. He lived in a kingdom whose brilliance stretched as far across the land as the eye could see. He had wealth that was the envy even amongst the wealthy. And power… oh, such magnificent, wonderful power. He had the power to rule even amongst the gods, never mind kings. The only obstacle that stood in the prince's way of absolute rule was the king himself, his father, for he wielded power which rivaled even his own._

_During one fateful day, when the prince was but a mere child, the king held his son over a tall and vast cliff as a sort of 'test of strength' in order to raise him into a proper heir to the throne. One thing led to another, and the prince was dropped over the cliff, plummeting to his doom. At least that would have been the case, were it not for the divine intervention of a wise man who wielded great powers. The injured little whelp was offered much from this wise and noble man: in exchange for a home of his own, the prince would not only be healed from his grievous injuries, but also be given power unfathomable even beyond that of his own father, wisdom and counsel only the wisest of men would ever dream of, and of course, vengeance… glorious vengeance against the king himself. They were fair terms, and so the prince agreed and welcomed the wise man as his adviser. _

_Of course, as he was but a mere child at that time, other than having his body healed from the ordeal, those gifts which had been promised did not come right away. This power that was granted needed time to develop, and the prince understood this quite well. Thus, though he managed to 'prove' his worth to the king, he still suffered much scorn and shame in his father's hands. The distinctive scar on his chest, the one he had received when he was dropped from that cliff, was a constant reminder of the harsh 'lesson' his father gave him. Day in and day out, his father taunted him, mocked him, flaunted his own strength against the mighty prince knowing full well his son was, at least for the moment, helpless against him. It did not stop the prince from plotting to dethrone the king, of course, but it was a seemingly insurmountable task given his position versus his father's…_

_Ah, but the prince, if nothing else, was patient (personally, 'stubborn' would be the better term, but for the sake of politeness, I will use 'patient'). A bit thick and dull on the edges, but still patient, and through the counsel of the wise adviser, he bided his time, increasing his own power until he found the right moment to strike. And strike the prince did as his power finally turned full bloom. The struggle between father and son was brutal as two mighty gods clashed over the sacred land that was the kingdom, pouring their anger and ferocity through nothing but their fists. In the end, however, the prince was victorious, his power absolute, and, in what one could call a twist of irony, he casted his father out the same way his father did so long ago… by tossing him over the side of a cliff._

_It was magnificent… a glorious work of art… and I do love poetry._

_The prince became king, and he ruled the kingdom with an iron fist. Nations bowed down to him, acknowledging his superiority, and the kingdom itself grew larger, prospering beyond unfathomable imagination… truly, nothing could usurp the new king from his throne, he truly had everything he wanted in the world._

_Alas, it would not last, for one day, a young maiden dressed in white entered his kingdom espousing… eh… nonsensical words of… peace and – uh – justice for the trees and, ugh, the little rodents and the birds and… lakes and fishes and… well, the point is, it was all nothing but nonsense designed to pervert the young king's mind. The all noble and infinitely wise adviser knew it. The lowly, less refined servants knew it. The hideous yet somewhat useful slaves knew it. Heh, the blind, mute, filthy, uneducated, mentally challenged moron of morons knew it! The only one who didn't realize it was… heh… the young, childish king himself. Pathetic! Of course, the adviser probably should have known. After all, he was still a bit thick up there and… dull around the edges._

_Anyways, the adviser took action, seeking to end this maiden's charade when an unholy force (which I suspect was a manufactured blonde with wings, though memory is a little hazy at the moment) seized the young king's heart (and by extension, the genital region), and both the king and the maiden eventually began to do some, as politely as can be put, very unholy things. Now, the unholy part the adviser did not mind. It is a natural instinct shared by all living beings since the very beginning when this filthy ball of dirt humans refer to as 'earth' was formed. Propagation, multiplication, all combined with sensual desire, it is all good! Plus… it is educational…_

_I digress…_

_The point here is this natural, instinctive urge to grind at each other's crotches would be slightly more tolerable, except for the king's unrefined taste for… for… cruel and vile little maidens such as the one he shared the bed with. Meanwhile, remember the father, the former king, that was thrown over the cliff? Apparently, stubbornness (yes, stubbornness, not patience) ran deep within the blood, for he did not die from the fall, merely injured. And of all ironies, the former king also gained a very distinctive scar on his chest, a reminder of the shame he himself had received at his son's defeat._

_In hindsight, he should have been thorough, but, as I said before, I do love poetry…_

_Upon arriving at the kingdom, the father waged a one man war against his son. Odds were stacked against old man, for the young king had the entire kingdom at his disposal, and with that wealth, he invited warriors from around the world in a grand tournament. This, however, would not deter the father one bit. Opponent after opponent, obstacle after obstacle, the father, the former king, fought his way through the kingdom armed with nothing but his fists and determination until finally he stood face to face before his own flesh and blood. In a clash between two kings, father and son fought in a bloody match of vengeance, one seeking to regain his throne, the other to retain it. Back and forth father and son fought, neither one seemingly holding an advantage over the other. Finally, the dust settled. One man stood victorious over the other, and – _

"Are we finished?" Kazuya snarled.

"Hush, boy, we are getting to the good part," the Devil replied.

In response, the former G-Corporation CEO rewarded the doppelganger with a backhand to the side of his face. "You are finished."

Devil spat blood to the ground, missing his host's feet by mere inches. "Insolent boy…" he muttered grimly. Kazuya slowly stepped away from the demon and brooded in silence. Devil snarled under his breath, but chose to remain silent, not wishing to incur any more of his host's wrath at the moment. That silence lasted for all of seven seconds. "Are you going to sit and idle like a lost pup, or will you finally tell me why you have disturbed me at this very moment?" he grunted impatiently.

Kazuya didn't bother to give an answer, or even lift a finger to his demonic duplicate. Rather he chose to ignore him and continue to brood over his thoughts. Devil, of course, did not like being ignored.

"Well?" Devil spoke through clenched teeth. Kazuya raised a trembling right hand and balled it into a fist. His knuckles popped audibly in the plane, sending quiet echoes throughout the dark landscape that is his mind. Still he ignored the seething, yet helpless creature shackled in its bondage of energy leeching tubes, proof and consequence of their bond. "Did someone cut your tongue, boy? Answer me!"

The former G-Corporation CEO gnashed his teeth and growled under his breath, though not at the purple creature rattling pathetically against his bindings. The landscape dimmed as a black haze enveloped the sky. Lashes of indigo lightning crackled against the dark clouds, striking the ground from a distance. The plane shook, causing the Devil to gasp, but Kazuya remained unmoved. Frustration was visible on his expression, hardened with lines on his scarred face.

"Alright… if you are going to ignore my question, then at least listen to what I have to say next," Devil relented. "Someone is coming."

Immediately, the sanctum vanished, and Kazuya found himself back in the wreck that was once a master bedroom. Kneeling on the ground in front of a broken mirror, he quickly jumped back to his feet and turned to the demolished door.

"I like what you did to the house," he heard a voice say.

Walking out of the bedroom and into the equally demolished living room of the house, Kazuya didn't take long to discover who the trespasser was. Incredulous, Kazuya lowered his arms to his sides, his poise domineering even when indifferent compared to the intruder. His lips curved subtly into a smirk, his mismatched eyes fixated on the bespectacled woman before him. "The old man must be mad to send someone like you," he said.

"I will be honest with you," Kalina replied, folding her arms across her chest. "I have much work to do back at the labs, and I can't be bothered to deal with work better suited for a Neanderthal."

"Yet your 'master' commands," Kazuya quipped, his voice smooth and cold.

"I knew you would find my predicament amusing." The scientist strolled towards an overturned drawer, propped herself onto its wooden surface, and crossed her smooth, supple legs. "The master commanded me to bring you back to Soleil, but you already know that. Should I give you time to change, or will you be leaving as is?"

The former G-Corporation CEO had only just realized that he was still dressed in his outfit from yesterday, which was nothing more than a pair of torn karategi pants along with feet and wrist guards. His well chiseled upper body remained bare for the woman to see. After his fight with Paul Phoenix, he never bothered to change. "Only if you wear that blue dress," he replied.

"I'm afraid I left it back at Soleil, so you would have to do with this," she said, waving her hand at her lab coat.

"Pity," he grunted. "I am curious. My impression of you is one who takes pride in her intelligence, and has a willingness to take risks many would consider insanity. If I were to merely judge this situation by outer appearance alone, you coming to me constitutes a risk." Kazuya glowered at the woman. "The vaunted intelligence, however, would seem rather questionable."

"Yes, coming here alone would be considered foolish," she acknowledged.

Kazuya gave the doctor another smirk. "The thought had already crossed my mind. However, outer appearances can be deceiving, and you do not strike me as foolish." Indigo lightning crackled faintly against his fists. "Shall he introduce himself to me, or must I pull him in myself?"

The doctor smiled back. "Truly you are a remarkable man. Your words reek of arrogance, but your eyes show much discretion. You truly live up to the Mishima name." Kalina elegantly stood on her feet, and gave the former CEO a curt bow of the head. "Very well, I shall let him introduce himself… though I believe the two of you have already met."

Before Kazuya could reply, a massive hand suddenly appeared from behind. Instinctively, Kazuya rotated his body to his right and met the hand with a raised forearm. He managed to block the strike quickly enough, but the force of the blow caused him to stumble back, surprising the former CEO. Immediately, another hand shot out, this time a fist aimed at the midsection. Kazuya sidestepped the punch and blocked the attack, avoiding most of the force this time, but still felt himself reel away. The third attack was unavoidable, connecting squarely to Kazuya's scarred chest. Kazuya fell backwards, crashing through the wall behind. The former CEO gasped, clutching his chest in pain. He was surprised to say the least. Very few men could match Kazuya in a fight; the idea of someone being able to physically overpower him, however, was virtually unheard of.

"Who dares…" he grunted. Kazuya fell silent the moment he got a better look at the second trespasser. Physically, the man was old. No, not old… ancient seemed a more appropriate description, given how loose and wrinkled his skin hung over his body. The specks of mottled flesh and the web of blood vessels made him appear like a decaying corpse than a living man. However, though ancient he may appear, he was also a dominating presence. Beneath the cracks of skin was a mass of thick muscle that made even a finely chiseled man such as Kazuya look wiry thin. Though the top of his pate was bald, from the back of his head, the ancient man allowed his hair to grow into a long, silver mane covering his back. A set of long, bushy eyebrows hung above a pair of dark, sullen eyes. Most distinctive, however, was the mass of silver facial hair around his face; a thick moustache and a pointed beard connected by a pair of giant, curved whiskers shaped into a pair of large, crescent shaped horns sprouting from his cheeks and hanging proudly above his head. Towering over Kazuya, the old man seemed less a corpse, and more a lion. More shocking, however, was the fact he _should_ be a corpse, yet here he was, standing triumphantly over him. The living legend in the flesh…

Jinpachi Mishima.

"Grandfather…" Kazuya muttered, then glared at Kalina.

"Let me tell you, 'reviving' him was not an easy task," the scientist explained. "He was one of my earlier experiments the master had given, so do pardon any imperfections you may see. However, the master believed you may be more cooperative if it was your grandfather asking for your return, thus he was sent. I believe it to be a prudent course of action, thus my supervision."

_Prudent my ***…_ Kazuya thought. "Pity that I am no fool, either. I know of your experiments. A mere face just because they are 'family' holds no sway over me, never mind one of your little puppets. If either you or your 'master' believed such was the case, then perhaps my judgment of your vaunted intellect has been misplaced."

Kalina let out a sigh. "I thought as much. If his face won't convince you to come back with us, perhaps his fists will." With a gesture of her head, 'Jinpachi' bolted towards the downed Kazuya.

The former G-Corporation CEO and former Iron Fist champion rolled away just as his 'grandfather' rammed his fist to the ground. Kazuya quickly hopped back to his feet just in time to avoid a powerful stomp which cracked the ground where he had laid. Kazuya then sidestepped away to avoid a glancing uppercut. Glaring at 'Jinpachi' with a blank expression, he lowered his body and made a short dash towards the ancient man.

"Doorya!" he cried out, extending his right arm and arcing upwards into a Wind God Fist.

Under normal circumstances, should his opponent recover, the move should at least push the opponent back, putting space between the two for Kazuya to decide on his next attack, if not outright launch him into the air. To his surprise, however, 'Jinpachi' recovered much faster than he anticipated, and 'slid' away from the Wind God Fist. With Kazuya vulnerable, 'Jinpachi' rushed forward and connected with a Wind God Fist of his own. Kazuya felt his body momentarily float, though not for long as a pair of strong, massive hands grabbed him by the ankles and slammed him back to the ground. The floor broke beneath both men, and 'grandfather' and grandson fell through the hole, into the confines of the basement below.

Kazuya found himself lying on his back, dazed from the impact of the fall. On the other hand, the massive ancient did not wait for his opponent to stand, and pounded his right fist onto his grandson. A column of terrible purple lightning lifted Kazuya off the ground. 'Jinpachi' then began his assault on his airborne opponent, launching into a barrage of lefts and rights, each blow feeling like the equivalent of mountains smashing into Kazuya's chest. A kick to the face followed by a shoulder charge later, Kazuya found himself pinned hard against the wall, coughing blood from his gaping mouth.

Meanwhile, Kalina waited patiently, not the least bit perturbed by the floor crumbling from the damage. "Do us all a favor and give up," she said. "It is for your own good."

Kazuya ignored the scientist and focused his attention on 'Jinpachi'. Fake or not, the old man proved to be every bit as formidable as he had remembered. His heart raced in a way he had never felt for any opponent, not for his son, his father, or anyone. This, he thought, was a real opponent, and he trembled in both fear and excitement. He had missed his opportunity to face him in the fifth King of Iron Fist tournament; he would not be denied this time. With 'Jinpachi' giving him a rare reprieve from his pummeling, Kazuya scrutinized his situation.

The first thing he will need is space. Though the house itself was not the most ideal place for a fistfight, particularly for a large man as his 'grandfather', he former Iron Fist champion was caught off guard, and received some injuries as his reward. At this point, the enclosed space would serve as more a hindrance for him than an advantage, especially given how unusually mobile the ancient man was. There was only one direction to go, and that would be up. Dusting himself lightning, indigo lightning snaked from his arms across the whole of his body. His right eye pulsated its demonic, crimson hue. Likewise, a purple aura surrounded 'Jinpachi' as dark, chaotic streaks of purple lightning crackled all over his massive frame.

"Let us find a more suitable place to continue this, shall we?" Kazuya smirked. With that, he leapt to the air, past the living room floor, straight through the second level and through the roof. Torrents of lightning lashed and condensed as wings sprouted from his back. 'Jinpachi' leapt into the air and, with superhuman speed, proceeded to give chase.

* * *

It had only been a year since the former Zaibatsu CEO fought the red haired Korean, though it felt more like yesterday. Given that Jin was practically comatose for a lengthy period of time while Hwoarang had the whole year to train, it was therefore no surprise that he found himself on the defensive end of the Korean's barrage of kicks.

"Come on, Kazama!" Hwoarang huffed, dancing between one leg to the other, throwing kick after kick against the Iron Fist champion. "Don't disappoint me!"

With clenched teeth, Jin held his left hand to block the first set of kicks, then lowered it to block a second aimed at his leg before lifting his right arm to block the following strike aimed at his chest. _He's gotten quicker_, he thought ruefully. Jin hopped back, avoiding a pair of jabs, and ducked underneath a snap front kick. The Iron Fist champion stepped forward and thrust out his right arm, but the man known as the 'Blood Talon' recovered enough to hop away from the fist. Jin, back on his feet, attempted a second strike, which was also deflected with a lift of the foot. Hwoarang then pressed forward, extending his right leg into a side kick, then spun around to deliver a heel kick. Jin swayed away from both kicks, the second kick managing to graze him by the cheek.

"What is this ****?" Hwoarang spat. "Thought you said you wanted to get this over with?"

"I did say that, didn't I?" Jin rubbed his cheek with the back of his gloved hand. He had to give the man credit, Hwoarang was persistent. It had been that way since the two first met. Neither Mishima blood nor Devil Gene would intimidate the Taekwondo expert; all that mattered was to win, regardless of his opponent. It was one of the qualities he both admired and hated at the same time. Jin thumbed his nose and, raising his fists, squared off at the former biker thug. Spitting to the ground, Hwoarang bounced lightly on his feet, limbering his neck and positioned his body back to his fighting stance. Crimson lightning crackled around Jin's fists.

"You finally taking me seriously?" Hwoarang sneered.

"I've always been serious," Jin replied. "Now, more than ever." Exhaling deeply, Jin refocused himself on the fight at hand and gestured to his opponent with his head.

With a snort, Hwoarang approached his bitter rival carefully. A quick snap of the left leg was easily blocked by Jin. Balancing gracefully on one leg, the Taekwondo expert delivered two more successive kicks with his left leg, feinted, then switched to his right leg and thrust out his foot to his opponent's face.

Jin deftly blocked the kicks and sidestepped to his left, then quickly delivered a side kick of his own. Hwoarang was able to move his body just enough to avoid receiving the full blow of the kick, though he stumbled all the same.

Not letting up, Jin quickly dashed forward, unleashing a combination of lefts and rights. Hwoarang recovered and spun himself to meet the onslaught, blocking each passing blow, then countering with two quick punches to push his rival away.

The Korean swept his foot at his opponent's shins, which Jin was able to step away and counter with a knee. Hwoarang blocked that with his hand and struck back with a jab from his right hand and three kicks in succession, one on the ground, the following two while airborne. Jin avoided the jab and swayed from the first kick while blocking the remaining two, the force of the midair strikes pushing him away.

Landing on his feet softly, Hwoarang dashed forward and extended his right leg upward, aiming for his opponent's chin. Jin blocked the move again, but found himself staggering from the attack. Seizing that moment, Hwoarang leapt to the air and drove his foot to Jin's chest. The Iron Fist champion felt his body sail back and hitting the dusty ground of the arena amidst the chorus of cheers from the audience. Instead of skidding along the ground, Jin managed to tilt his body back and, with a deft push of his hand, flip himself back onto his feet, skidding to a quick stop.

_His skill has improved as well,_ Jin thought, clutching his chest. Aggressive as he may appear to most of the audience, the moves were well calculated and precise in their intent.

"What's wrong, Kazama!" Hwoarang shouted. "Can't do nothing without your freak mode!"

_Freak mode?_ Jin cocked his head at the affront. Between the two of them, while Jin had the bloodline on his side, Hwoarang had the advantage of natural talent. It was a gift that he was blessed with that made him such an adversary for even some of the most hardened, seasoned veterans of the Iron Fist Tournament, including his master, Baek Doo San, never mind for a man of Jin's stature, and Jin himself was no slouch. This was yet another quality he both admired and hated at the same time… at this moment, mostly hate. His neck ached from the collar around his neck. For a brief moment, he actually missed having his 'freak' mode.

Only for a brief moment… the memory of Eddy and the injuries he had suffered from his berserk devil form was still fresh in his mind.

Resuming his stance, Jin beckoned with his left hand, his expression cold and stern.

Hwoarang responded with a quick snap of his left leg. Jin swept the kick away with the back of his hand, and countered with a forward kick of his own. The red haired Korean swayed his head back from the kick and stepped away to avoid a roundhouse. Hwoarang's lazily walked away from the confrontation, his expression smug and confident. Jin did not break his stance, keeping an ever watchful eye over his grating opponent.

"Is something the matter?" the Korean taunted. "Why so serious?"

Jin kept his emotions and remained alert, though a part of him felt a small degree of annoyance bubbling to the surface, threatening to crack his cool exterior. In the past, it was a simple matter to brush the red haired Korean aside, leaving Hwoarang livid. Today, however, he could not ignore him any longer, and he found his current display of arrogance unsettling. If he could only wipe the smirk off his face, he thought, yet also knew such a thing would be easier said than done. After all, so far in this match, Jin was losing. How did it get to that point? Having abandoned the Mishima Styled Karate used by his fathers and forefathers in favor of the more traditional style of karate, Jin managed to defeat some of the strongest fighters in the world, amongst them the monster known as Ogre, as well as his own kin, Kazuya, Heihachi, and even the legendary Jinpachi Mishima. These were no small feats in themselves, and certainly those accomplishments had earned him the title of 'King of Iron Fist' and ultimately run the Mishima Zaibatsu as president and CEO as befitting of a Mishima heir…

And yet somehow, this one time biker thug turned soldier remained a thorn on his side, and had caused him far more trouble than foes far stronger and more seasoned than him. Inside and outside tournament settings, both men have fought on many an occasion, and though the reasons behind each clash have varied, be it a goal, a vendetta, or simply out of boredom, all eventually ended in one or both combatants bleeding and exhausted. Hwoarang himself had won a few of those encounters either through skill or determination. Though Jin himself had his fair share of victories, often times he found himself either winning by the skin of his teeth, or relying on the Devil Gene to overcome his opponent. None of his victories had ever come easy. It had never bothered him before, but given the circumstances, this was the first time he had truly noticed this odd disparity. And here, Jin was supposed to be venting out his frustrations, only for his frustrations to grow by the moment…

Hwoarang broke the lull with a right cross. Jin blocked the fist and forced his opponent back with a clout. "I hate being ignored," Hwoarang muttered, brushing himself lazily with his hand on his chest. "Think you're so high and mighty just because you're a rich man? Answer when I speak, Kazama!"

Jin answered the Taekwondo expert with a right hook to the midsection. Hwoarang parried the attack and countered with a string of kicks with his left leg, the first two quick and abbreviated, the final with full force. Jin staggered back from the strikes and dropped to one knee. As an insult to injury, Hwoarang spun on the ball of his left foot and punted the side of Jin's face with his right. Jin flew from the impact and toppled onto his side, scraping his arm along the dusty floor. A chorus of cheers rang from the crowd.

"Now that is just sad," Hwoarang scowled. "The big bad Kazama taken down by a 'punk'. That's probably what those ***** will say. In fact, that's probably how they will remember us, you as the CEO of some big *** company that brought the world down, and me as the lowlife who just got a lucky break and maybe five seconds of fame. But you wanna know what's even _more_ sad?"

As Jin lifted himself with his knuckles on the dirt, Hwoarang kicked him hard against the ribs, toppling his opponent back onto the ground.

"For some god damn reason, I actually_ liked_ you once," he continued. "Forget respect, I… liked you. Yes, you were a complete ***, but still I liked you, far better than even the punk ***** I once hung with."

Hwoarang lifted his foot and dropped his heel towards his fallen opponent's chest. Jin quickly rolled away from the stomp, the move hitting nothing but dirt in his place, and sprang back to a squatting position. With balled fist, Hwoarang quickly dashed towards his opponent and began his assault anew. Both men began with an exchange of lefts and rights, both men blocked each other's strikes. Hwoarang would throw a combination of kicks which Jin would block and counter with a combination of punches and kicks of his own. Soon, however, Hwoarang would pressure the Iron Fist champion with his more practiced feet and, seizing a weakness in Jin's defense, knock him back down on his rump. Jin struggled to get back at his feet while Hwoarang bided his time.

"It's weird, but it's true," Hwoarang continued. "This, even after you killed so many people back in the day. Maybe it was because of that time you kicked the living **** out of me when you went all demon during the fifth tournament, and I took one too many hits to the head, and probably took many more of those since then. But as much as you had pissed me off, even when you played mad dictator all those times, I kinda felt sorry for you. Now, however…"

Jin barely managed to raise his hand as Hwoarang rushed in for another short exchange. Fists balled, the Korean attacked with quick lefts and rights, all of them blocked clumsily and countered by Jin with strikes of his own. Jin mistimed a right hook, which allowed Hwoarang to knock him back with a right cross. Jin reeled on his feet, though this time maintained his footing. Hwoarang, however, would have none of that, hopping into the air and tossing a side kick with his left leg. Jin felt his legs about to buckle from that move alone, yet it wasn't over as Hwoarang followed up a kick to the calf. Just when Jin was about to fall, Hwoarang added an upward side kick to the head, sending Jin airborne momentarily. With Jin now at the 'Blood Talon's' mercy, the Korean continued to administer his torment; a hook kick with his right, a pair of leaping roundhouses to the chest, a series of quick kicks in tandem with his fists, and an axe kick aimed squarely on the shoulder. Jin crumpled down in a heap, his body full of aches and bruises after that onslaught. A trickle of blood dripped from a fresh cut on his cheek.

"Just be glad I'm letting you leave in a stretcher," Hwoarang glowered, the haughtiness in his tone replaced by scorn. "It is more than what you gave my friends, especially my master!"

_CRACK!_

Hwoarang felt a sudden painful stinging sensation on the left side of his face. The impact came so unexpectedly that the Korean found himself off balanced with on hand firmly on the ground. His eyes widened with a look of shock and dismay. Standing on his feet with a new look of determination, Jin held his right arm out with his hand clenched into a fist. The man who was once nicknamed 'Fatal Lightning' still appeared to be in pain, but his eyes now burned with a level of anger Hwoarang had rarely ever seen.

"You're right, what I did the past year was horrible," Jin said in as calm a tone as he could muster. "Just the year before, I killed thousands in my war. Years before that, I killed many more."

Back on his feet, Hwoarang lunged at his rival with a strong right fist. It connected hard and true, yet Jin held his ground, not yielding even an inch. He looked at his rival incredulously. Just when he thought he had him, Jin would pull a ******** move such as this and end up one step ahead of him again. It must be real nice to have such 'kingly' blood in those high and might veins, he thought.

"I won't even deny, I deserve everyone's contempt, including yours."

Stunned, Hwoarang growled with frustration as he backhanded Jin with his left hand. Jin, on the other hand, blocked the fist and shoved his opponent away. Again, must be real nice having that damn Mishima blood…

"For your friends… your comrades whom had fought bravely against my fathers and myself, especially Master Baek Doo San, I am truly sorry."

"*******!" Hwoarang leapt into the air to deliver a flying kick, yet to his dismay, Jin sidestepped the attack, allowing him to sail well past his mark. Hwoarang landed softly on the ground, yet immediately turned and lunged again. The momentum of Hwoarang's jump and the impact of the blow did not miss, throwing Jin backwards, yet to his dismay, Jin not only remained standing, but as an insult, he seemed unfazed by it. "You don't get to speak his name, Kazama!" he spat.

"But at this very moment, I have important issues to attend to, and have no time – "

Losing his cool, Hwoarang hopped lightly on his left foot and thrust out his right leg, intending to shut his rival's mouth with his heel. "Men and women we _both_ knew had died, so you _will_ make time for this – "

A strong pair of hands held his foot in place. Hwoarang jerked his leg a couple of times but was unable to break out of Jin's grip. Before he could come up with a counter, Jin twisted his hands and spun his opponent to the ground. Hwoarang landed hard on his back, much harder than he had anticipated, and felt the wind knocked out of him.

"You may settle the score with me at a later time," Jin seethed. "At this moment, however, I have one important thing to deal with, and you are in my way." _Hanako… _he thought sullenly. The vision he had witnessed only moments ago still remained fresh, one of his two main motivations to suffer through this tournament. "For once, I am on a mission to save lives… very important lives. If you continue in this course of yours, you will only put those very lives at risk. And that, I cannot allow to happen."

_You and your self-righteous ********… Damn you, Kazama!_

Hwoarang picked himself up and connected with a right fist to the face. As before, Jin did not budge from the punch, and rewarded his opponent with a fist of his own. The Korean, on the other hand, didn't fall back from the blow this time. Feeling the heat rising, he instead backhanded Jin hard with his left arm, ignoring the pain on his own face. The fist landed across his cheek with a loud crack, momentarily causing Jin's head to snap to his right. Snarling, however, Jin grabbed Hwoarang by the arm and, pulling him forward and clamping his opponent tightly, delivered a mighty head butt. This time, Hwoarang did fall back from the force, skidding several feet from his rival. Jin quickly regretted it, however, as his head was still ringing from the beating he had received before, much less the two punches to the face. Falling to one knee with one hand clutching his head, he would eventually reflect as to why he did that, over even tried talking his opponent down for that matter. For now, he wanted something to make the world stop spinning.

_Not so tough now_… Hwoarang thought, staggering to his feet. He ached less than his opponent, but his balance at this moment was not much better. No matter, seeing him in such a vulnerable position and practically begging for a lesson, Hwoarang stumbled forward and leapt with his an outstretched leg. Jin stumbled and rolled away just before the right foot made contact.

"Stubborn fool!" Jin berated, back on his feet.

"You are one to talk!" Hwoarang fired back, readjusting his body to his rival for another kick.

The strike hit Jin on the shoulder instead of the intended head. Bristling with anger, Jin struck back with a quick forward kick of the left leg and a jab of his left hand. Hwoarang deftly blocked both strikes, only to be caught off guard by a right cross. The move still stung, but it lacked the strength of the previous blows. As such, Hwoarang merely felt his head lurch violently as opposed to his head, torso, and the rest of his body sail to a wall. This, on the other hand, allowed Jin to step forward and perform an uppercut with his left fist. That strike hurt him more, along with the collective punches that followed. Just as Jin seemingly reversed his fortunes, however, Hwoarang managed to recover just enough to stop an incoming sweep of the leg. For Jin's hard work, Hwoarang returned the favor with left hook.

Then a right uppercut.

Then a kick to the calf.

Then another kick to the ribs.

Then a hook kick to the side of the head.

And another strike, and another, and another…

Then a kick with the right foot to send him floating.

Then finally, dropping onto his back, a soccer-like overhead kick, punting the falling Jin across the ring.

Jin landed on the ground with a crunch, too battered to utter any sort of curse at his opponent. The audience cheered loudly for the Korean while hurling jeers and insults at the downed champion. He could barely hear Hwoarang's voice, let alone the profanities uttered in his direction. He did feel the fingers grab him by the back of his head along with the fist across his face. His lower lip split from the impact, leaving fresh blood running down his chin.

"Are you listening to me?" Hwoarang rumbled breathlessly.

Jin's expression was pained yet defiant. He glared back into the man's eyes unflinching. For that, Hwoarang smashed his face to the ground.

"That was for those you have killed…"

Groaning, Jin fumbled along the ground with his hands and knees, barely managing a crawl. A sweep of the foot under his arms sent him falling. A second kick flipped him over onto his back.

"This one… this one especially is for Master…"

_CRUNCH!_

Hwoarang felt pain shoot up his heel as his foot hit solid concrete instead of flesh. Refusing to quit, Jin found the energy to roll away just enough for the stomp to miss. The former Mishima Zaibatsu CEO was supposed to have the gift of the bloodline on his side, the strength and durability possessed only by a Mishima as he had been told countless times in the past; he decided it was about time to put that to good use. Seizing that advantage, Jin grabbed his opponent's heel hard, eliciting a yelp in response. Desperately, he clamped down harder on the foot, and before Hwoarang could utter another syllable, Jin put all his strength into lifting the man over his head and slam him to the ground.

"Ugh!" the Korean grunted.

Clutching at the back of his neck, Jin lifted Hwoarang back into the air and, with a loud cry, slammed him back down on the ground for a second time.

Then a third…

Then a fourth…

Not letting his opponent drop to the ground so soon, Jin held the Korean by the throat, and struck him by the ribs with a hard swipe of the right hand. Hwoarang fell from his grip, down on his knees with both arms clutching his midsection. A chop to the neck sent him recoiling on the ground, retching dry heaves.

Mounting his prey, Jin quickly pounded the man's face with a continuous flurry of lefts and rights, gritting his teeth as he let loose his fury. Fresh new bruises appeared on Hwoarang's face, which gave way to cuts, and eventually blood. Jin's eyes blazed a frightening red, his fists felt numb from brutality, and the markings of the Devil materialized from his brow…

_Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!_

Searing heat burned around his neck, putting a halt to his aggression. Grumbling, he latched onto the collar around his neck, pulling at the enchanted band. He then realized what had just happened… and what nearly would have happened had the device not wake him of his increasing bloodlust. The brands on his brow vanished as quickly as they had appeared, his eyes reverting back to normal. Hwoarang would have ended up like Eddy did, only it would have been fatal. Angry as he was with the red haired Korean, his days of genocide was over… he had grown weary of the slaughter…

_CRACK!_

Hwoarang punched his rival off him and meekly rolled onto his stomach. Beaten and battered, his face was caked with dirt and blood. Fresh drops of viscous crimson covered over his eyelids, hindering his sight. Though nothing in his right foot was broken, it was in all likelihood sprained from his attempted stomp, rendered worse when Jin clamped his hands around it. He could still balance on the leg, even use it to attack, but its effectiveness had now been reduced significantly.

With adrenaline starting to wane, Jin also felt the wounds catch up, sapping of his energy to fight. His face was equally drenched as his opponent's, though his vision was less obstructed. His arm still ached from the scrape earlier in the fight. Sharp pain seared from his ribs, likely fractured from the blows he took. It hurt to even breathe, let alone move, though externally he wouldn't show it.

To the audience, neither man looked to be in any shape to fight.

"Kazama!" Hwoarang bellowed. He had never hated someone with such animosity. For all the training he had received, for all the talents he was blessed with, somehow that man managed to thwart him no matter what he did. Cursed Mishima bloodline… it was a quality he absolutely hated about him…

"Idiot…" Jin muttered under his breath.

Both men knew they were on their last leg, and though their hearts insisted on continuing till the other falls, their bodies told them otherwise. Climbing awkwardly to their feet, both men sized up the other as best as their impaired vision allowed them to, and, with much effort, positioned themselves into their respective fighting stances.

Jin smiled.

Hwoarang fumed. "What's so funny!" he demanded.

Jin ignored the question. Instead, he focused his ki onto his arms, preparing for one last move. "What are you waiting for?" he said calmly.

Even in rage, Hwoarang did not let his anger get the best of him, not this time anyway. He exercised the little patient he had left, figuring the best course of action to take against his rival.

The crowd chanted impatiently, roaring for the fighters to finish the match.

"Bring it on, Kazama."

Against the agonizing pain and exhaustion, putting all their mind, all their heart, all their soul into one last effort, the two opponents attacked.


End file.
